


Taking Back Neverland

by jdmusiclover



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-06-02 10:38:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6563020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdmusiclover/pseuds/jdmusiclover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. After actress Emma Swan's lead role in a popular TV show is at an end, she is offered the leading role in the Regina Mills film, Taking Back Neverland, a fresh retelling of the Peter Pan story.  It's a once in a lifetime opportunity.  Only problem?  She'll be starring opposite Killian Jones, who she positively can't stand.  (Originally part of my Fluffy Fridays collection.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Emma Swan crossed her arms and took a step back. “No. No, not a chance. Not gonna happen. Absolutely not. Just NO.”

Why had she ever agreed to take this project? Why had she let Mary Margaret and Ruby talk her into it? Even just reading the script gave her a bad feeling about all of it—it was an interesting story concept but it hit way too close to home. And if that wasn’t bad enough, now they’d finished the casting and the producer, Regina Mills had just broken the news to her.

Well, they were just going to have to work on recasting a few roles because there was no way in hell she was going to act opposite Killian Jones.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Two weeks before 

Emma Swan pushed open the door of the trendy coffee shop across from her apartment complex and scanned the room until she caught sight of her agent enthusiastically flagging her down.

Emma grinned. There was absolutely nothing subtle about Ruby Lucas, but she was also one of the kindest, most supportive people Emma had ever met, and Emma considered her one of her very best friends.

Emma grinned as she started toward the booth in the back where Ruby and their other best friend (and Emma’s brand new sister-in-law) Mary Margaret Nolan sat sipping at large mugs of fragrant, steaming liquid.

“Hey guys; how’s it going?” she asked as she slid into the booth next to Mary Margaret. 

Ruby slid a mug across the table toward her. “We went ahead and ordered you a hot cocoa.”

“With cinnamon,” Mary Margaret added.

“Thanks,” Emma said warily. These two only had her order ready for her when they were trying to butter her up for something. “So what’s going on?”

Ruby gave her an exaggerated innocent look. “Going on? Why do you think something’s going on? Can’t a couple of friends make a nice gesture toward their other friend?”

Emma shot her a skeptical look, and Ruby sighed.

“Fine,” she said dramatically. “We did want to ask you something, but it’s not a bad thing. It’s actually business, and an amazing opportunity.”

Emma looked back and forth from one eager face to the other. “Why do I get the impression I’m really not going to like this amazing opportunity?”

“Oh you are, Emma!” Mary Margaret said. “It’s just…well, with your past and background, it might be a little…difficult.”

“Well that sounds ominous.”

Ruby slid a booklet across the table to her, and Emma looked at it curiously, reading the bold title written across the top: Taking Back Neverland.

“What’s this?” she asked, absently flipping through it.

“This, Emma,” Ruby said, “is your big break. This is the newest Regina Mills picture, and I got you an audition for the female lead!”

Emma looked up in surprise. Ruby got her an audition for a Regina Mills film? And a lead role at that? That was…amazing. Emma had gotten into theater back in high school when she’d been placed with Ruth Nolan, the best foster mother any kid could want. 

In a lot of ways she owed her life to her foster family. She’d been seventeen, angry with the world, and well on her way to completely throwing away her life. Ruth had seen something in Emma, something no one else had ever taken the time to see. She’d been unfailingly patient with Emma, and when Emma was finally at a place where she trusted the older woman enough to listen to her, Ruth had made the suggestion that Emma try her hand at acting.

“Just think about it, Emma,” she’d said. “On the stage…well, you’ll have the opportunity to work through your anger in a productive way. You can channel those emotions you don’t know what to do with into compelling performances. Performances that will bring joy and entertainment and meaning to who knows how many people out there.”

And the little community theater had opened up a whole new world for Emma. She found her niche, her place to shine. Through her acting she could become anything or anyone she wanted. And when people started coming up to her and telling her how much her performance had touched them, how it had helped them work through issues similar to the character she was playing, it felt like her life had meaning and purpose once again.

Emma had met Ruby and Mary Margaret in college when they all roomed together during freshman year. It had been a bit of an adjustment at first; they were all so wildly different—Ruby over-the-top and a bit of a party animal, Mary Margaret wholesome, motherly, so full of hope it was disgusting sometimes, and Emma still a bit stand-offish with sky-high walls. Somehow they’d worked through those difficult weeks of adjustment, and they’d been inseparable ever since.

Just out of college, Ruby had become Emma’s agent, and promptly landed her commercials and tiny “extra” parts in low budget movies and TV shows. 

But it was a couple of years later that Emma landed the role that made her a household name. She’d been cast as the lead in a prime time television show called “Welcome to Storybrooke”. She played a tough, no-nonsense bail bondswoman who teamed up with a small-town sheriff to solve crimes no one else could solve.

The show had had a good run, lasting five seasons, and Emma had loved every minute of it. She got along great with her co-star, Graham Humbert, and they had so much fun working together, Emma almost couldn’t call it work at all. There had, of course, been all kinds of rumors and tabloid stories that the two of them, who had eventually (and inevitably) become on-screen lovers, had been an item in real life as well.

She couldn’t deny she found Graham handsome, and she liked him a good deal, but that was all there was to it. They’d gone on a date or two, more out of curiosity to see if there was anything to all the hype than anything else, but neither of them had felt any great stirring of passion, and so they remained just good friends.

But amazing though her run on “Welcome to Storybrooke” had been, all good things come to an end, and for the last year…short of little bit pieces here and there…Emma had been out of work. Ruby had been burning the midnight oil for months trying to find Emma that big, break-out roll that would solidify her place in Hollywood forever.

A leading role in a Regina Mills film would most definitely do that.

“Wow,” Emma said, looking around at both the women currently beaming at her. “I don’t know what to say. This is incredible!”

“Yeah,” Mary Margaret said, “and that’s not even the best part! David and I just got cast in the film! If you get the part we’ll play…get this…your brother and sister-in-law. Talk about art imitating life, right?”

“I gotta say,” Emma said with a quick shake of her head. “It all sounds like a dream come true, so why the whole buttering me up thing? What’s the other shoe that’s going to drop?”

Ruby and Mary Margaret shared a significant look. “It’s just…” Mary Margaret said, putting a comforting hand on Emma’s arm. “Well, the main character…Anna Swan (yeah she even has the same last name as you! Is that a sign or what?) Anyway, her story has some…similarities to your own, and I can see where it might dredge up a few rough memories.”

“Okay….” Emma said. “What exactly does that mean?”

“You see,” Ruby said, “the whole premise of the film is that Anna Swan was a busy professional who…who suddenly meets the little boy she’d given up for adoption years ago.”

Emma sucked in a long, shocked breath as the memories slammed into her. No! No, no, no, no, no. That was not a moment from her past she wanted to dredge up. What were they thinking?

“It all works out well,” Mary Margaret hastened to reassure. “The boy gets kidnapped and taken to Neverland, but Anna goes after him, and well, she not only saves him—with the help of her brother and sister-in-law and her love interest, Captain Hook—but she finds healing in her relationship with her son.”

Emma got quickly to her feet, her head spinning. “Guys…” she said faintly. “Look, thanks for the opportunity and everything, but I can’t do this.”

She prepared to do what she did best—run—when Ruby got to her feet, the script in her hand. “Emma, I know how rough…that…time in your life was, but please. Just think about it. Read the script. Just don’t make a snap decision. Please?”

Emma stood still for long moments, fighting within herself, but finally nodded, taking the script from Ruby. “Fine. I’ll read the script, but that’s all.”

“That’s all I ask,” Ruby said.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Present day 

Emma had read the script—and it spoke to her in a way nothing had in years, maybe ever. Despite the pain (visions of giving birth chained to a hospital bed, not even allowing herself a glimpse of her baby boy as the nurse took him away, danced through her mind), she knew she had to give this film a shot.

And so she’d gone to the audition…and had been hired on the spot.

She’d come in to the studio this morning for a chemistry test with the actor they wanted to cast as her love interest. It was only when she got here and was five minutes away from said chemistry test that Regina had given her the name of said actor.

“Not going to happen,” Emma reiterated. “You’re just going to have to look for a new actor, because this—me acting opposite Killian Jones—is not going to happen.”

Regina sighed in exasperation and rolled her eyes dramatically. “Miss Swan stop with the theatrics. It’s acting for heaven’s sake! You don’t have to fall in love with the guy, just act like you have. You are aware of the difference between acting and real life aren’t you?”

Emma groaned. “Obviously. But even if I don’t ‘have to fall in love with him’, I’ll have to spend long hours with him. Not exactly wanting to spend several weeks of my life constantly sick to my stomach.”

Killian Jones had a reputation a mile long that preceded him. He was your quintessential ladies’ man; a different woman on his arm every night. He drank too much, flirted too much, and had such a bloated opinion of himself it was a miracle he and his ego could even fit through the studio door. She knew the smooth talking “I’m God’s gift to women” type, and she didn’t want anything to do with him.

“Well invest in Pepto, then,” Regina said in her firm, no-nonsense voice, “because here’s the deal. Killian Jones is big. Really big. You have no idea what a coup it was for us to get him. So if any actor’s role is going to be recast, it’s going to be yours. Understood?”

Emma closed her eyes, mentally praying for patience. After a couple of deep, cleansing breaths, she opened her eyes once again. “Fine. You’ve made your point. Let’s get this stupid chemistry test over with.”

“That’s more like it,” Regina said with a nod. “Oh, and you may want to wipe that sour scowl from your face before the test. You’re supposed to be acting like you’re falling in love, remember?”

“How could I forget?”

Regina opened the door to the set where the test was to take place and motioned Emma forward. Emma set her shoulders and walked in.

“Hello, love; my name’s Killian Jones.”

Emma looked up into open, friendly cerulean blue eyes situated in the most handsome face she’d ever seen. As she took his warm, firm hand, and shook it once, as she breathlessly answered “I’m Emma Swan”, as he smiled gently, almost shyly, Emma realized she might just be in serious, serious trouble.

Notes: 

\--As stated in the summary, I originally posted this story in my Fluffy Friday collections, so if it seems familiar—that’s probably why. I’ve got four chapters currently written, so I plan to post one each day. After that, updates will come every Friday.

\--When I decided to try my hand at an “actors who ‘hate’ each other but end up cast as love interests” AU, I had a feeling it was going to be more than a one shot—and so it will be. Kind of like with “The Wedding Date”, I’ll need far more than 2000 words to set things up and get these two from “We can’t stand each other” to...wherever they’ll end up. :-) (At present, I’m planning 8 chapters and an epilogue.) 

\--Full disclosure: I don’t know all that much about the whole casting/acting/movie making process, so if you do and you want to give me suggestions I would certainly be open to them! 

\--Up next: Part 2!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 “You really should check out this script, mate,” Robin said, “it’s bloody _perfect_ for you.”

Killian took a swig of his rum, grinning to himself. “Let me guess…it’s a Regina Mills production?”

Robin grinned back, taking a healthy swig of his beer before continuing. “It may be my fiancée’s current project but that makes it no less perfect for you.  I know you don’t have any pressing projects at the moment.  What would it hurt to just check it out?”

“Alright, I’ll bite,” Killian said, “what exactly is so perfect about this particular script?”

“It’s got action, adventure, a bit of whimsy, and romance,” Robin answered. “You’d be taking the role of Captain Hook.”

“A villain?”

“Well, perhaps more of a reformed scoundrel,” Robin allowed. “He is the male romantic lead, after all.”

Killian was silent for several moments, warring with himself. The sounds of the bar, The Rabbit Hole, washed over him.  Finally, he reached up, scratched at the spot behind his ear and spoke again, refusing to look at his mate.

“You know full well I haven’t taken an action role since…it happened,” he said, taking a fortifying swig of rum. He held up his slightly-atrophied left hand and stared at it in derision.  “Not much place in action movies for a bloke who only has one working hand.”

Robin clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ve been over this.  You could act circles around half the leading men in Hollywood right now even with their two hands.”

“I’m not so sure of that,” Killian said under his breath.

He flexed his left hand, the motion weak and taking painfully long, and his mind went back to the accident. The moment his life changed forever.  Not only had he lost his love, his Milah in that automobile crash, but his hand had been crushed.  After extensive surgeries, the doctors had managed to save the hand (it had been touch and go for a while, the doctors all preparing him for the possibility that amputation may be necessary), but they told him he’d never get more than minimal functionality from it again.

“Well _I_ am,” Robin said bracingly.  “And besides.  Your disability will be no factor in anything that’s required of you in this particular film.  If you’ll recall, Captain Hook came by the name after a crocodile ate his left hand.”

Well, that did provide some interesting possibilities. He couldn’t deny he missed starring in action-heavy roles.  They had been his staple before the accident.  He’d made quite a name for himself.  Since it had happened…well, he’d spent most of his acting time playing the protagonist in rom-coms.  He’d been blessed with good looks, and he’d acquired more than his fair share of female fans thanks to those roles, but he hungered for another role of real _substance_.

“Very well,” Killian said, pushing aside his tumbler of rum and preparing to settle his tab, “I’ll give it a read.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Read it he had, and he’d promptly fallen in love. This was the role of a lifetime.  Quite a fresh and imaginative take on the tale of Peter Pan, with Hook the romantic hero and Pan the bloody demon.  It hit everything that made a story great—action, adventure, romance, witty dialogue, and the happiest of happy ending (particularly for Captain Hook and the protagonist Anna Swan).

Robin was right; this was a role he simply couldn’t turn down. Truth be told, it was as though the part had been written for him.  He saw himself in the resilient fighter Captain Hook was, the melancholy hero who had endured far too much loss in his life. 

The theme of a rather lonely little boy reconnecting with his birth mother likewise touched something deep inside. There was something healing in reading about that little boy’s healing—and the way he healed his mother—that soothed (at least in part) the wound Killian carried from his own father’s abandonment so many years ago.  True, Anna Swan had given up her infant to give him his best chance while his father had abandoned him and Liam out of nothing but sheer selfishness, but an orphan’s an orphan.

The very next morning, he’d called Regina Mills directly (there were certainly perks to being best mates with the fiancé of one of Hollywood’s biggest directors) and expressed interest in the role. She’d immediately called him in for an audition—a process she’d assured him was nothing but a formality.  Killian had made quite a name for himself over the years, and Regina had assured him the part was his for the taking.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

And so it was that two weeks later he found himself striding into the studio for a chemistry test with the female lead, Emma Swan.

He knew very little about his on-screen love interest. He’d caught a few episodes of her television show, but a man can’t very well get a read on a person based solely on her performance as an actress.  He could tell that she was bloody gorgeous and had more than her share of talent, but as to the rest?  Who was to know?

He fervently hoped they hit it off. As the two of them were scene partners in nearly every scene they were involved with, they would be spending long, grueling hours together over the next few months.  Far better to spend that time with someone he genuinely liked than someone who got on his last nerve.

His agent, who insisted he call her Tinker Bell for some unaccountable reason, had playfully suggested maybe the two of them would not only get along, but _get along_.  She’d nudged him, winking playfully, asking if he knew what she meant.

Aye, he knew exactly what she meant, but it wasn’t going to happen. No matter what this Emma Swan may be like, his heart had been broken so definitively it would never be mended again.  For the first few years after Milah’s death, he’d buried the pain in rum and passionate nights with as many anonymous women as he could find. 

But eventually he realized how utterly empty his life had become. He’d loved Milah with a burning passion, and their life had been _good_.  Losing himself in meaningless encounters with women did nothing to mask the pain, only made him realize how pointless his life had become.  Truth be told, he was no longer interested in meaningless sex.  If anything, he wished for a real, true, meaningful relationship.

But that ship had sailed when his love had died. No use wishing for something he would never again allow to be his.

The studio door opened, cutting short Killian’s melancholy musings, and then _she_ walked through, and every thought in his head suddenly fled.  He knew Emma Swan was beautiful; he’d seen that clear enough when he’d viewed her TV show, but nothing could have prepared him for the punch to the gut seeing her live and in person gave him.

She wore her long, luscious blonde hair in an artfully messy ponytail high on hear head. Her green eyes sparkled.  And there was just a certain, indefinable _something_ about being in the same room with her that made him tingle with awareness.

_Love at first sight_ , Tink would have supplied in a sing-song voice.  He definitively shoved _that_ thought aside.  Where he and Emma Swan were concerned, the only “falling in love” that would happen would be of the on-screen kind.

He took a deep breath and let it out, trying desperately to get ahold of himself. He was going to keep this professional if it _killed_ him.  When he finally felt like he could talk to the goddess without making an utter fool of himself, he walked over to her, keeping his expression pleasantly friendly.

“Hello love; my name’s Killian Jones.”

He offered his hand, and she looked at him suspiciously for a moment before taking it and shaking it tentatively. “I’m Emma Swan.”

He smiled at her like an idiot. This whole “remaining professional” business was going to be a fair bit more difficult than he’d expected.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Emma glanced away, desperately needing to put some distance between them. A woman could drown in those blue eyes of his.

_No wonder he’s had nearly every woman in a 100-mile vicinity falling all over themselves over him_ , she thought to herself.  And _that_ was enough to bring back reality.  She wasn’t, absolutely _wasn’t_ going to be just another conquest.

So, she straightened, and looked down at the script again while they waited for the casting director (a rather bad-tempered man named Leroy) to signal that they were ready for the chemistry test.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the scene Leroy had pulled out for them to read. She’d been afraid he’d pick _the_ scene—the big, passionate kiss that changed everything for both Anna and Hook (although it took Anna a considerably longer time than Hook to admit it).  Stage kiss or not, no way was she ready to lock lips with Killian Jones.  She was going to have to psych herself up for that.

Luckily, that wasn’t the scene picked, but one a couple of acts later. This one was all dialogue.  Romantic and emotional dialogue, yes, but strictly dialogue none the less.  Not even a stray brush of hands in the script for this one.

She’d be fine; just fine.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road,” Leroy said from his seat just beyond the stage. “Haven’t had breakfast yet, and if Granny’s runs out of bacon before I get there, there’s gonna be hell to pay.”

“I’m quaking in my boots,” Killian said under his breath, only loud enough for Emma to hear.

She smiled in spite of herself. “You should be,” she whispered back.  “He looks like he means business.”

“Hey, break it up!” Leroy growled. “Save the flirting for the stage!”

Emma felt her face flame. Leroy thought she was _flirting_ with Killian?  Ugh!  Making this film was going to be the longest couple of months of her life.

“Right,” Leroy said again with a nod. “So in case you’re not that familiar with the context yet, your scene comes a couple hours after the Echo Caves confession.  Hook and Baelfire are both sniffing after Anna and she just wants to get to Henry.  Bae just took the cutlass and went off looking for Dark Hollow.  And that’s where you two love birds pick it up.”

Emma closed her eyes, pictured the scene to come, imagined the emotions running through Anna at the moment—fear for her son’s safety, a strange mixture of relief and panic at Bae’s return, desire—and maybe the starting of something more—for Hook. She still felt a bit overwhelmed about how much her life had changed over the past few months.

So, sky-high walls. She could do sky-high walls.

Emma opened her eyes and became Anna.

_Anna shot Hook a suspicious look, putting her hand out to stop him from stepping past her and following Bae._

_“What was that about.”_

_Hook looked aside, clearly uncomfortable. “I assumed he’d heard my secret.  I also assumed you’d told him of our shared moment.”_

_Of course he’d go there_ _, Anna thought to herself.  She rolled her eyes.  “Why would you assume that?”_

_He stepped forward, his deep, deep blue eyes boring into hers and not giving up. Anna felt her heart pound at his nearness.  “Because I was hoping it meant something.”_

_Anna wasn’t going there. She wasn’t going anywhere _near_ there.  Best to change the subject.  “What _meant_ something was that you told us that Bae was still alive.  Thank you.  I realize you could have kept Pan’s information to yourself.”_

_“Why would I have done that?” He sounded as though he genuinely didn’t know the answer._

_She shrugged. “I don’t know.  Maybe Pan offered you a deal.  Why else would he tell you?”_

_“It was a test,” Hook said, his voice softening—even as it shone with sincerity. “He wanted to see if I’d leave an old friend to die, even if the old friend happens to be vying for the same woman I am.”_

_“And you chose your friend?”_ Emma let a hint of breathlessness enter her voice.

_“Does that surprise you?”_

_Uh, yeah, it did. “You are a pirate.”_

_“Yeah, that I am.” Hook looked down, and Anna’s heart twisted at the hint of self-deprecation she saw in the gesture._ This guy really was good.

And then he turned on the intensity, and Emma found it difficult to think at all. _“But I also believe in good form.  So when I win you heart, Anna, and I _will_ win it, it will not be because of any trickery; it will be because you want me.”_

_He stepped even closer; so close that she could feel his breath against her face. His eyes held hers, shining with sincerity.  She felt like a moth in the presence of the flame.  She wanted nothing more than to sway into him._

_Well why not? Anna’s supposed to be falling in love, isn’t she?_

_She let her face show how much Hook’s words affected her. She saw his eyes darken in response, and it took way, way more effort than it should to pull back and let Anna try to put some emotional distance between them once again._

_“This is not a contest, Hook.”_

_He gave her no quarter, no lessening of his particular earnestness. “Isn’t it?  You’re going to have to choose, Anna; you realize that, don’t you, because neither one of us is going to give up.”_

_That was way, _way_ too much for her. “The only thing I have to _choose_ is the best way to get my son back.”_

_He smiled proudly. “And you will.”_

Emma knew enough about Anna to know she was not used to _anyone_ putting her first; she wasn’t used to _anyone_ having faith in her.  She let a touch of wonder enter her voice. _“You think so?”_

_“I’ve yet to see you fail,” he let his smile turn playful, flirtatious. “And when you _do_ succeed, well, that’s when the fun begins.”_

For several moments after the scene wrapped up, Emma and Killian continued staring at each other. That was…that was… _intense_.

She didn’t realize she was effectively staring longingly into Killian Jones’ eyes until Leroy chuckled. “Oh yeah.  I don’t think chemistry is going to be _any_ problem between the two of you.”

Emma blinked, and then felt the heat creep up into her cheeks. _How_ was she ever going to survive making this damn movie?

She did what she did best. She stormed away. 

“Yeah, well,” she said over her shoulder as she walked away, “what can I say? We’re really, really good actors.”

And she told herself it was the truth. She’d just managed to _really_ get into character; that was all that had happened out there on that stage.  It was _Anna_ ’s emotions she was feeling, not her own.  Not anywhere _close_ to her own.

_Notes:_

_\--Mostly from Killian’s perspective here. He obviously doesn’t have as much against Emma personally as she has against him, but he was burned by the pain of what happened with Milah, so a relationship is the farthest thing from what he plans.  We’ll see how long those plans last, lol._

_\--I chose the scene from Dark Hollow because I think it’s really incredibly romantic—and it really makes Emma and Killian’s chemistry shine. Obviously the dialogue from that part is not mine._

_\--Up next: They start rehearsals and filming.   Sparks fly—but will either of these wounded, stubborn people let themselves acknowledge them—let alone act on them?_

 


	3. Chapter 3

Emma shivered as she stuck her key in the lock and turned. It had been quite the day; she was fairly certain she was never going to be dry or warm again. 

She pushed the door open with a weary sigh, surprised to find the lights on and a very chipper Ruby sitting at her table.

“Hi Emma!” Ruby said, saluting her with a glass of red wine, “how was your first day of filming?”

Emma side-eyed her “friend”. Hard.  “Ruby, it’s 3:45 in the morning.  Why are you here?  And why are you so dressed up?”

Ruby grinned wider. “Well…I’m dressed up because I had a date tonight.”

Emma glanced at her, curious about the slight hesitation in her friend’s voice. She’d never been shy about giving details (usually far more than Emma wanted) about her romantic life.  “Really?  You didn’t mention it to me.  Who with?”

Ruby blushed. Actually blushed.  “Well, I wasn’t sure how you’d take it.”

“Now I’m intrigued. Who is this mystery man?”

“Graham.”

“Graham Humbert? My former costar?”

Ruby nodded, her face betraying an odd mixture of chagrin and something that, for lack of a better word, might be called dreaminess. “You see, I happened to run into him in the coffee shop the other day, and we started talking about you, and one thing led to another, and the next thing you know he was admitting that he’d always had a thing for me, and…I don’t know.  He’s cute and he’s sweet and he’s a gentleman, and…don’t be mad Emma!  I know you dated a time or two.”

Emma grinned, crossing her legs and taking another sip of her wine. “Mad?  Why would I be mad?  You know Graham and I are just friends.  And, yeah, I saw the way he used to look at you when you’d visit me on set.  I say it’s about time the two of you gave it a shot.”

“Really?” Ruby asked, with a ghost of a smile.

“Absolutely! Now, how about my first question.  Why the hell are you here in my apartment at 3 freaking 45 in the morning?”

Ruby grinned. “Because I know you.  I know you’d just ignore my texts, and then I’d have to wait until tomorrow _at least_ to hear how things went on set!”

Emma sighed, slipped off her boots and took a seat across from Ruby at the kitchen table. She gestured toward the wine bottle Ruby had sitting on the table, and her friend obligingly filled a glass and slid it her way.  “How was my first day of filming?” she asked after taking a healthy swig.  “I just spent a good eight hours, _at least_ filming the most uncomfortable, physically demanding scene of my career—and that’s saying something considering I used to play a bail-bonds woman.”

Ruby clucked her tongue in sympathy. “Lots of running and fighting?”

Emma shook her head. “More like swimming and drowning.  It was the scene in the opening act where Anna jumps into the sea to try to get everyone to stop fighting.  For some reason, Regina decided she had a thing about realism.  Made us film the scene _in the actual ocean_.”

“At _this_ time of year?” Ruby asked, eyes widening.  “It must be _freezing_!”

“You’re telling me,” Emma groused, shivering once more. “After the first fifteen or so takes I think I stopped feeling my feet.  Well, at least if Regina was going for wet and cold and miserable, that scene is going to be a rousing success.”

“Well at least tell me the payoff was equally worth it!” Ruby said with a smirk. “How did Killian do with the whole concerned/relieved looks thing?  And…how did you manage to avoid swooning working with him in that ultra-sexy pirate get up all day long?  Does that shirt they have him wear even _have_ buttons?  And those tight leather pants.  Yum!”

Emma rolled her eyes. “He’s a fantastic actor; true professional.  I’ll give him that.  He totally sold the whole ‘The thought of her dying totally freaks me out, but it shouldn’t because I’m a pirate who’s out for himself and I absolutely _don’t_ have real feelings for her’ thing to a T.”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Emma!  I didn’t ask about his _acting_!  I asked what _he’s_ like!”

Emma thought back to the day just passed. Truth be told, he was…nothing like she’d expected.  He was ridiculously good looking, that she only needed eyes to see, but somehow those looks didn’t translate into an overly elevated opinion of himself.

Oh, yeah, he teased; he flirted; he made exaggerated comments about how ‘devilishly handsome’ he was, but it only took Emma an hour or two of working with him to realize most of it was nothing but a mask. There was a…depth and humility in Killian Jones that Emma never would have expected.

It surprised the hell out of her, but she actually _enjoyed_ the time they spent together on set.  He was a generous scene partner, checking to make sure she was comfortable, making stupid jokes to break the tension, even singing from time to time.  (And…she’d never admit it, but she _loved_ that voice of his.)

He’d been incredibly gallant today, really. While she dived off the ship set into the cold ocean over and over and over again, he was always there as soon as the director shouted “cut”—sometimes with an oversized blanket in hand, other times with a steaming cup of coffee.  Always with a sympathetic grin.

The gestures…well, they actually warmed her more than the hot beverages, to be honest.

“Hello! Earth to Emma!” Ruby said, waving a perfectly manicured hand in front of her face.  “I think I lost you there!”

Emma blinked. “Sorry, what was the question again.”

Ruby grinned. “Killian.  What’s he like?  How is it to work with him?  How have you managed not to swoon working with him?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Ruby he’s not _that_ good looking!”

Ruby merely gave her a look.

“Okay, maybe he is, but I can handle myself around handsome men,” Emma said. “Working with him is…nice.  He seems like a great guy.  But we both know how much ‘seems like’ can be deceiving.”

Ruby reached over and squeezed Emma’s hand. “Emma…sometimes things are exactly as they seem.”

“Maybe,” Emma said, glancing aside, “but I’d much rather not test it. It’s good enough for me to know we’ll get along on set.  That’s all it’s going to be.”

Ruby got to her feet. “Look, I know it’s late and you’re tired and you probably want nothing more than to curl up in bed and finally get _warm_ , so I’ll get out of your hair.”  She took a step toward Emma’s door, and then turned back toward her.  “Just…don’t let what Walsh and Neal and everyone else did to you keep you from something that could be a really good thing.  There really is such a thing as a great guy.”

 

_Notes:_

_\--A bit of a shorter update this time around.  I planned to add a second scene to show Killian’s reactions to the whole situation, but I ended up deciding that it would probably work better in the first scene of next chapter._

_\--Ruby’s dating situation is a bit of a nod to snowbellewells on Tumblr. She and I both have a head canon that if Graham hadn’t died, he and Ruby would have really hit it off._

_\--Up next: Filming continues, and Emma and Killian try to figure out the best way to work together._


	4. Chapter 4

Taking Back Neverland—pt. 4

**CS Genre: AU (Actors who “hate” each other)**

“Alright everyone! Break’s over!”  Leroy growled, stopping into the break room with a scowl.  “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Killian groaned. It had been a long day; these hours were killer.  Taking a last gulp of his water, he got to his feet and offered his costar his hand.  “Guess we’d best go, Swan.”

She closed her eyes tightly, burrowing farther into the couch she’d claimed as her own when they’d started in on their break. It amused (and kind of impressed) him, her ability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat.

“Don’t want to. Comfortable,” She groused.

He laughed and tapped her on the shoulder. “Are you really willing to risk Leroy and Regina’s wrath, love?”

She cracked an eye and then sighed. “Guess not.”

Emma took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. He smiled as they walked the few steps back to the set.  To tell the truth, he found this woman fascinating.  Certainly they hadn’t started on the best footing.  She’d fairly run from him that day of the chemistry test.  But despite the rocky start, he believed things were going well now.

Well, as well as he could expect.

The lass had walls as thick as he’d ever seen. It was clear that someone had hurt her; badly.  Killian felt the anger burn at the thought, wishing he could confront the cad who’d wounded this wonderful woman so deeply.  What manner of man could treat another person in such a way that she no longer believed in the possibility of love?

Killian sighed. He supposed it was truly none of his business who had hurt her.  What he hoped would one day be his business was how to help her heal.  If only the lovely Miss Swan would let him.

One of the make-up artists snagged him on his way back to set, insisting she desperately needed to reapply guyliner. As the woman worked over him—and a second appeared to artfully muss his hair, Killian focused on the scene ahead.

Anna had woken to the sound of crying during her their first night on Neverland. Going to investigate, she’d come across none other than Peter Pan himself who’d given her a blank map.  He’d assured her that the map would appear as soon as she acknowledged who she really was.  After several fruitless attempts, she finally succeeded, and the rescue mission _finally_ had something to work with.  Such was the backdrop to Hook and Anna’s first big one-on-one scene of the day.

As the women worked over him, Killian reread the script, closed his eyes and went through his standard “get into character” routine. It was shockingly easy with this role.  There was something about Captain Hook that reminded him deeply of himself—and despite what he’d said to his mate before the chemistry test, in moments of true honesty he couldn’t deny it.

Acting as though he were falling in love with Emma Swan was…barely acting at all.

“Looks like you’re devilishly handsome again, Captain,” the make-up artist said, with a playful tap to his cheek.

Killian smiled winningly up at her as he got to his feet and prepared to head to set. “Thanks, love.”

Emma was waiting when he reached the set, which replicated a dark, sweltering jungle. She paced back and forth, bounced on the balls of her feet, muttered to herself, stopping every once in a while to consult her script.

Killian leaned up against an artificial palm tree, his arms crossed, an amused smile on his face, and unabashedly watched her. After a moment, she noticed his perusal, and a lovely pink shaded her cheeks.

“What?” she asked defensively. “Never seen an actress get into character before?”

His grin widened. “Never one so lovely as you,” he said smoothly.

Emma rolled her eyes. “Do those lines ever really work on _anyone_?”

“I assure you, Swan,” he said, pushing off of the tree and ambling over to her, “I’m not in the business of using _lines_.  I assure you, my comment was quite genuine.”

 “Yeah, well…” she said, uncomfortably.  “I guess we better get to it then.”

“As you wish,” Killian said, taking his place at Emma’s side, both of them looking down at the map as they each held a corner.

“Quiet on the set!” Regina shouted regally. She waited for her command to be obeyed, and then turned back toward Killian and Emma.  “Alright, annnd…action!”

_Hook handed the map back to Anna, and she folded it up. “Excellent show of patience love.  And that’s what defeats a nasty little boy.”_

_She looked startled for a moment, surprised eyes meeting his. Was this woman truly so unused to receiving praise?  Bloody hell!  There was something almost criminally tragic about that.  Hook reached beneath his leather coat and grabbed his flask from his back pocket._

_“I certainly hope so,” Anna responded. Her eyes narrowed as she saw the flask in his hand.  “Is rum your solution to everything?”_

_He smirked. “It certainly doesn’t hurt.”_

_Hook took a drink, and then handed the flask over to Anna. Despite her half-hearted complaint about his libations, Hook noted that she took the container readily enough, and immediately brought it to her lips.  He watched her intently, something about his flask in her lovely hand, her lips against the opening affecting him in a way he didn’t even want to think about._

_“So, just how did you unlock the map?” he asked, desperately trying to regain his emotional equilibrium._

_She shrugged, and then looked up at him, her eyes filled with the barest traces of pain and insecurity. “I did what Pan asked.”_

_“Just who are you, Swan?”_

_She grinned at him, more than a hint of flirtation in her eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”_

_Aye, he would. He’d like to know everything about her.  Every bloody thing.  He paused for a moment before answering, his eyes radiating his sincerity.  “Perhaps I would.”_

_He’d shocked her; he could see it in her eyes. She held eye contact for barely a second before dropping her eyes, returning his flask, and walking determinedly away._

_Hook sighed. He must go slowly, gently.  Those walls of her would take some time and patience to breech._

“Aannnd cut!” Regina called, broad smile on her face. “You two have some of the best chemistry I’ve ever seen.  First take and you nailed it!  Let’s try one more take to experiment with different camera angles, but honestly?  I think that’s just about a wrap!”

Killian took a long, deep breath and slowly let it out. It was no wonder their performance—his at least—had come off as sincere.  Somewhere between “action” and “cut” he’d ceased acting at all.  He may have been repeating lines written for the dashing Captain Hook, but he meant every word.  He _did_ want to get to know the lovely Emma Swan.

He could only hope she’d one day give him the opportunity.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Emma stepped through the studio doors and made a b-line for the refreshments table in the lounge. She was running late today, and she desperately needed to get into hair and makeup, but if she was going to survive filming she needed coffee first.

Lots and lots of coffee.

Emma poured herself the tallest cup she could find and breathed in the steam, closing her eyes in pleasure, the strong scent comforting and relaxing her. She took her first sip and nearly groaned.  If she was going to deal with Killian and his ridiculous…. _everything_ …she needed a cup or five of good coffee first—and this was really, really good coffee.

_Come on Emma_ , her inner voice (which sounded waaayyyy too much like Mary Margaret) chided, _don’t you think you’re being a little unfair? Killian’s really…not that bad._

She sighed and took another sip. She had to admit it was true.  He’d actually been a total gentleman ever since this whole project started two weeks ago.  Not only that, but she actually _liked_ him.  He was funny and charming and witty, and near the end of _long_ filming days—when she was too exhausted to keep her guard up—she’d talk and laugh with him in between takes.

And that was kind of the problem. She had no intention of _ever_ dating an actor again—particularly one that was as handsome and charismatic as Killian freaking Jones.  Especially not one who had a string of woman five miles long that would do anything to be with him.

She’d learned her lesson with Walsh that actors were the worst, because they could _act._ He’d pulled off an Emmy worthy performance, making her think he cared about her, loved her, but in the end his true colors had shown through, and she’d gotten her heart broken.

Never, _never_ again!

_But Killian’s not Walsh_ , her annoying inner voice reasoned, _Your ‘super power’ hasn’t so much as reared its head with him. He is who he makes himself out to be._

Maybe, but Emma wasn’t ready to chance it.

Although, if she were being brutally honest, it was becoming increasingly hard to stay indifferent to him. The other day when they’d filmed the scene where Hook told Anna he would like to know who she is, the way he’d looked at her…the way everything about his body language had been attuned to her…it was overwhelming.  It had taken every bit of her acting skills not to turn tail and run—before the script called for Anna to, at least.

But it wasn’t just when they were acting. Throughout the day from time to time, she’d feel his gaze upon her, and she’d look up and catch a look of similar longing and intensity in his ridiculously blue eyes.  Killian Jones’s eyes _not_ Captain Hook’s eyes.  Emma tried to convince herself he was just trying to stay in character, but…well, deep down she knew the truth.  Killian was starting to have feelings for her.

_Would that really be the end of the world?_ Emma growled, snatching a donut hole and shoving it in her mouth.  Was it not bad enough Ruby was constantly asking her what it was like to work with “Captain Hottie” as she called him, did even her subconscious have to push her toward him?

Trying to distract herself, she grabbed her script out of her jeans pocket and went over the scene for the day. ( _Yeah, great distraction from Killian, Emma, considering today you’ll be exclusively working on scenes with him_!)

Today, they’d be filming the scene in Baelfire’s cave—the one where Hook tries to comfort Anna, and she doesn’t want any part of it. Emma looked down at the words once more.

_Anna: Look, I know what this is, you trying to…bond…with me. Well save your breath because I’m not interested._

Man had Regina type cast her! It was like the script writers had gotten into her own head when they wrote that line. 

_You do know, right, that Anna was only so standoffish because she_ does _have feelings for Hook? She’s afraid to explore them, but she knows full well that he’s someone she could fall deep and hard for._

But she was Emma, not Anna.

_You sure you don’t protest too much?_

She really needed to do something about that inner voice; it was annoying as hell!

“Hi! You’re Emma Swan, right?”

Emma startled at the sound of the young voice, and turned to look into a pair of sparkling brown eyes.

“Yeah,” she answered. “And who are you?”

He grinned. “I’m Henry.  Your son.”

For a moment, panic hit her, memories of the pain as she gave birth, the far greater pain as she watched the nurse carry away her newborn son forever.

Then reason returned. This was _Henry_ , her _on-screen_ kid.  This had nothing to do with…well…the worst day of her life.

Emma stuck out her hand, and he put his much smaller one in hers. “Nice to meet you, kid.”

“Nice to meet you too!” he said enthusiastically.

A pang went straight to Emma’s heart at the sound of his voice, the feel of his little hand in hers. There was something so achingly _familiar_ about this little boy.  She had to swallow a substantial lump in her throat before she could speak again.

“So, Henry, we’ve been filming for almost two weeks. How is it I’m only now meeting you?” she asked.

He shrugged. “My mom only lets me film in the mornings, then I have to work on school work.  That was our deal when she hired me.  I could be in her movie, but I had to do my school work when my scenes were over.”

“Your _mom_ hired you?  Who’s your mom, kid?”

“Regina Mills!” Henry said.

Emma’s eyes widened. “Didn’t know Regina had any kids.”

“It’s just me,” Henry said, eyeing the plate of donuts. “She really wanted a baby, so she adopted me, and now I’m ten years old. Well, gotta go.  I’m doing a scene with Peter Pan today!”

And with that, he was off.

_Ten years old_.  That’s pretty close to the age her own kid would be now.  She wondered where he was, how he was doing.  The familiar pain and guilt hit her.  She _knew_ what it was like to be in the system.  What if…what if he’d never gotten adopted?  What if he’d been taken in by one of those awful foster families that was only in it for the money?

She tried to deal with it by reminding herself that she was giving her kid his best chance, and that normally worked (although a small, niggling part of her always reminded her that she was adopted by the Nolan’s just after jail. She would bet all her savings Ruth Nolan would have given her baby a place to live as well.)

Mostly it worked; mostly she was able to shove the painful thoughts aside, but there was something about seeing Henry…something that tore at her, made her raw.

“There you are,” came the British accent. “Your make-up artist is looking for you; we start filming in half-an—are you alright there, Swan?”

Emma quickly swiped at her eyes, pasted on what she hoped was a carefree smile, and turned toward Killian (who looked better than any man had a right to in his pirate leathers, guyliner and shirt unbuttoned nearly to his navel, damn him). “I’m fine.  Thanks for reminding me; running late today.”

His brows furrowed as he looked at her, the concern evident in his eyes. She made a move to step past him, but he stopped her with a gentle hand to her arm.  “No, love, you’re not.  You look like you’re near to falling apart.  What’s wrong?”

She dropped her head, unable to stem the single tear that slid down her face. He swiped at it with the pad of his thumb.  Finally she sighed.  Killian was far, far too perceptive.  No way she’d be able to bs her way out of this one.

“Alright, I’m not fine,” she said, a touch of irritability in her voice, “happy?”

“Not remotely,” he said gently, the warm rumble of his voice nearly making her shiver. “Anything I can do to help?”

She shook her head. “I appreciate your concern, but…I’ll be fine.  It’s just, some rough memories from my past kind of reared their ugly heads today.”

He was silent for a long moment, and Emma looked down, her hands going to her back pockets, her stance defensive. Finally he spoke again, and his voice was so gentle, tender, hesitant it nearly undid her.  “Emma…I too know what it’s like to have a painful past.”

Suddenly it was too much. All of it. _Way_ too much.  She looked up into his concerned face and hardened her heart.  “Look,” she said, “I know we have to work with each other and everything, and it’s a good thing if we get along, but you don’t have to, you know, _bond_ with me.  I’ve been dealing with my crap on my own nearly all my life, and I’m…I’m just _better_ alone.”

And without another word she pushed past him and nearly ran to the make-up artist. It was only when she’d left the lounge that she realized how ridiculously close to the script they were using today her conversation with Killian had been.  Talk about art imitating life!

Well, sort of. She had no intention of ever letting her walls down for Killian Jones.

_Yeah, me thinks you doth protest waaaaaay too much_ , helpfully supplied her inner voice.

 

_Notes:_

_\--So, basically Killian is falling hard for Emma—and vice versa, but Emma is still in full-on denial mode. (So…basically exactly where they were in the Neverland arc.)  Next week we’ll get to much more actual interaction between the two of them!_

_\--Up next: David and Mary Margaret ask Killian and Emma to have dinner with them after filming one day, and that gets quite interesting—particularly after MM starts feeling ill, and David has to take her home, leaving the other two to finish dinner alone.  The next day, on set, Emma and Killian film a rather pivotal scene. :-)_


	5. Chapter 5

“Alright everyone!” Leroy shouted. “That’s a wrap for the day.”

Emma took a deep breath and let it out, slowly transforming from Anna Swan back into herself. She glanced at her watch as Leroy droned on with his reminders about the schedule for tomorrow. _5:00_.   That was the earliest they’d ever wrapped for the day.

Regina was giving them a night off. This was a day to mark on the calendar. (Leroy said it was because they were ahead of schedule and the day’s shoot had gone unusually well, but…well, Emma suspected the reason for the early wrap had more to do with Robin visiting the set and asking Regina for a date. Whatever the reason, Emma wasn’t complaining.)

“Hey Emma,” Mary Margaret said, coming up to join her, “David and I were thinking about getting some dinner at The Big Bad Wolf. Wanna join us?”

The Big Bad Wolf was a favorite of the cast and crew. A little diner run by a no-nonsense lady known only as “Granny”, it had good food and an even better atmosphere.

“Sure,” Emma said, “I don’t think we’ve hung out since filming began. Sounds good.”

“Great!” Mary Margaret said. “How about we meet you guys there at 6?”

Emma narrowed her eyes. “You guys? Mary Margaret who exactly is coming to dinner?”

Mary Margaret looked aside, took a deep breath and then pasted on the fakest smile Emma’d ever seen. “Well, you…and Killian.”

“Mary Margaret!”

“Now, Emma,” She said with a placating gesture of the hand, “just…calm down. You know Killian doesn’t really have anyone and it’s sad to think of him going home and eating alone.”

“You sure this is really about concern for Killian?” Emma asked, arms crossed. “You sure it’s not, I don’t know, an attempt to matchmake?”

Mary Margaret held up her hands. “In this, I’m innocent. It was actually David who asked him.”

“David, really? Why would _David_ ask him?”

Mary Margaret shrugged. “Ever since the two of them filmed that scene this morning where Hook saves Charming, the two of them have been inseparable. I’m telling you; the bromance is strong between the two of them. You’ll break your brother’s heart if you insist on excluding his new best mate.”

Emma laughed. “Fine; wouldn’t want to break David’s heart. I guess I can endure one dinner; especially since you and David will be there.”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret said, shooting her a thoughtful look, “don’t you think maybe you’re being a little too hard on Killian? I mean, he’s been nothing but a gentleman, far as I can see, and the two of you seem to get along really well.”

Emma felt vaguely uncomfortable, the words hitting home. She dropped her eyes and let out a long breath. “Yeah; he seems like a great guy, but I’ve had experience with people who seem like great guys and…well, you know how that ended up.”

Mary Margaret was silent for so long, Emma finally looked up. The compassionate look in her sister-in-law’s eyes was nearly her undoing. “Not every guy is Neal or Walsh,” she said finally. “Trust me; I know. Your brother is proof of that. Emma, that wall of yours may keep out pain, but it may also keep out love, and let me tell you, love is _so_ worth it. Just a little food for thought.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Killian took another bite of his burger, chewing thoughtfully. The silence in the little booth at the back of the diner was nearly deafening. He’d been flattered when Dave had asked him to dine with his family—and he was not above admitting he was more than a little bit pleased to hear David’s lovely sister would be joining them.

This tense silence was not what he’d been expecting.

Oh things had started out splendidly, the four of them talking and laughing about happenings on set, but no sooner had they placed their orders than Mary Margaret made a mad dash for the restroom, coming back a few minutes later citing a sudden case of extreme nausea. David had promptly offered to take her home insisting Killian and Emma go ahead and enjoy their dinner.

Killian would have suspected shenanigans on the lovely Mrs. Nolan’s part but for the fact she did appear rather green. Not that he minded having a cozy one-on-one dinner with Emma Swan.

But the lady herself certainly seemed to. She hadn’t spoken so much as a word since her brother and sister-in-law had departed some quarter of an hour ago. Perhaps a bit of levity would shake her out of her mood.

“You know,” he said, allowing a hint of ‘Hook’ to enter his voice, “some men would take your silence as off-putting, but I love a challenge.”

The corners of her lips curved up in spite of herself “Really?”

“Aye,” he nodded sagely. “Fortunately, I don’t need you to share. You’re something of an open book, darling.”

“That so?”

He nodded again, the smile suddenly sliding from his face. Aye; he could read her, and right now what he saw written plainly across her face was pain, wariness. The need to comfort, to protect rose up in him once again.

But if he was to comfort, he needed to know what it was that caused her such distress. “Love has been all too rare in your life, hasn’t it? Tell me love, have you ever even _been_ in love?”

She shot him an alarmed look, dropped her grilled cheese, and took a quick sip of her iced tea. Finally, she squared her shoulders. “No. I have never been in love.”

He’d crossed one of her indefinable lines and well he knew it. He sighed. “Look Emma, I’m sorry; it was none of my business. I shouldn’t have pried…”

“No, no,” she said, glancing away again, “it’s fine. I guess I’m just kind of in a mood tonight. I’m sorry I’m so…well, you know, grumpy.”

He smiled reassuringly. “It’s no problem Swan. Your sister-in-law’s illness thrust us into a rather awkward situation. We seem to get on well enough between takes on set. Perhaps we could imagine we’re merely in the breakroom enjoying a much needed rest.”

She smiled. “Sounds good to me.”

His grin turned decidedly wicked. “So, love, since we are on set, I must ask you; how’s the hand?”

Her cheeks took on a delightful rosy hue. “What even _was_ that, Killian? I think I missed the line in the script where you were directed to tie the stupid scarf with your freaking _teeth_!”

He laughed. They’d filmed a scene that afternoon involving a bit of first aid…and an entire jungle worth of flirtation. Anna had tripped over a tree branch in Neverland’s jungle and cut her palm. Hook, ever the gentleman, had bound up the wound with his own scarf.

He shrugged. “I felt a bit of improvisation was in order.”

“Yeah, well…warn a woman before you pull out that level of smolder.”

“And where would be the fun in that?” he asked with a wink. “I was hoping to elicit a genuine reaction, and you, darling didn’t disappoint.”

She huffed. “Could you just…stop smirking at me like that and pass the salt?”

He couldn’t quite manage the first, but he did pick up the salt shaker and slide it across the table, the action pushing up the sleeve of his black shirt. Emma glanced down, and Killian recognized the exact moment she noticed the tattoo.

She shook a bit of salt on her fries, and then turned speculative eyes in his direction. “Who’s Milah, on the tattoo?”

The pain slammed into him, along with memories of shattering glass, twisting metal and agonizing grief. Self-consciously, he pushed the sleeve back into place. “Someone from long ago,” he finally ground out, hoping his short reply would end the conversation.

No such luck.

“Where is she?”

“She’s gone.”

For a moment, Emma merely looked at him, and Killian got the sudden impression he wasn’t the only one who could read the other like a book. Suddenly understanding came into her eyes. “That accident…the one that was in all the papers a few years back…it took more from you than the use of your hand, didn’t it?”

“For someone who’s never been in love,” he said, desperately wanting to turn the conversation away from him and the most painful moment of his life, “you’re quite perceptive.”

It was her turn to glance away. “Maybe I was once…or twice.”

And they were not pleasant experiences; he could see that plain enough. “What happened love? Who hurt you?”

He didn’t expect her to answer, fully expected a cutting look that ordered him to keep out. But she surprised him.

“First time I fell in love, I was a kid,” she said, picking up her fork and idly pushing her uneaten fries around her plate. “I was, I don’t know, sixteen? A runaway from the system.   Neal was a few years older, experienced, exciting.”

“What happened.”

“Long story short, he was nothing but a petty thief. Maybe he loved me, maybe he didn’t; I’ll never know. But a few months after we started dating, he ran off, planting a couple of his stolen watches in my hotel room. Next thing I knew I was in the slammer and…pregnant.”

He sucked in a ragged breath.

“I was hardly mom material, so I had to give my son away.”

She spoke in an off-hand manner, but Killian could feel the waves of pain radiating from her. He slid his hand across the table and took hers. She didn’t pull away, a fact that spoke of her distress more than anything else could. “I’m so sorry, love.”

She shrugged. “It was a long time ago. I was adopted by David’s mom not long after I got out of jail and things really turned around so…I guess it all worked out?”

He hated to push her, but there was more; he could feel it. Best he take advantage of her temporary openness. “You said that was the first time you were in love. Were there others?”

“Just one more,” she answered. “It was, I don’t know, five years ago or so. I was trying out for a part in that new remake they did of _The Wizard of Oz_. I met one of the guys who played a flying monkey that first day of try outs. Walsh was his name. The whole him being a flying monkey thing? Yeah, should have been my first clue.”

“What happened with him?”

“We started dating. Things got serious pretty fast, and he even proposed. I thought everything was going well…at least until I got a call back for the roll of the Wicked Witch. He kind of…went ballistic, yelling at me and then storming off. Turns out he wasn’t actually into me at all. He was working for Zelena Mills, who wanted the job for herself. He was supposed to keep me occupied so I couldn’t actually try for the part.”

She fell silent for a moment. “Do you know what the icing on the cake was? It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Me trying out or me not trying out, Zelena still got the part.”

“I’m sorry, Swan,” Killian said, “but if it’s any consolation, I heard Zelena was a nightmare to work with on set. Absolutely bat-shit crazy, that one. I’m not exactly seeing a long and illustrious career for her.”

Emma laughed in spite of herself and squeezed his hand before pulling away. “Actually…that does help. Thanks.”

Killian laughed, and then sobered. “Swan...you deserve better. Better than both Neal and the flying monkey. I sincerely hope you find it.”

“Thank you,” she said, and he could see in her eyes that his words had truly touched her.

He shrugged, scratching at a place behind his ear. “You’re welcome, love. That is, after all, what friends are for.”

“Is that what we are?” Emma asked. “Friends?”

“I’d like to think so,” he said. “I’ve no wish to hurt you or make you uncomfortable. So what do you say, Swan? Shall we be friends?”

She looked closely at him and then nodded, a small smile on her face. “Yeah, I could go for that. Friends it is.”

_Notes:_

_\--Okay, I lied, I didn’t make it to that “pivotal scene” this week. The dinner and revelations and all of that just took WAAAAAAYYY too much space! But the pivotal scene is definitely coming in the next chapter, and considering the movie is shooting in basically chronological order and in this chapter they talked about Hook saving Charming’s life….I’m betting you can guess just what that pivotal scene is!_

_\--This story is, of course, about Neverland and follows the events in that arc, but how on earth do you have a proper CS au where the two of them fall in love without at least referring to the beanstalk episode? I mean that was a classic! Thus, I moved the hottest moment of first aid ever to Neverland for use in their movie. I also wanted to bring in the Captain Charming bromance, and a bit of supportive, season 1 roommate Mary Margaret and her useful advice._

_\--Up next: Emma’s feeling better about Killian and working with him after their conversation and decision to be friends. That is, at least, until work the next day where the two of them spend a significant amount of time filming a certain scene that Emma’s been dreading (and maybe secretly looking forward to) ever since she found out Killian would be her costar._


	6. Chapter 6

Emma woke up feeling warm and fuzzy and altogether wonderful.

The feeling lasted only until she was fully awake and remembered the events of the night before. She sat up quickly, dropped her head in her hands and groaned.  Had she really had dinner with Killian Jones and told him all about Neal and Walsh?

Her stomach dropped as she remembered the emotions as she revealed her deepest secrets—secrets she hadn’t even told her _best friends_ until several years into their relationship.  Emma didn’t open up, didn’t reveal herself, didn’t give people the opportunity to hurt her.

What _was_ it about Killian that made her suddenly turn away from all her finely-honed self-preservation tactics and turned her into a blithering idiot?

She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

Gradually, Emma became aware that the scent of freshly brewed coffee had wafted its way into her bedroom _. Interesting_.  She got to her feet, put on a pair of fuzzy slippers, and walked down the hall to investigate.

“Morning, Emma!” came the perky voice of Ruby Lucas as soon as she stepped into the kitchen. Her best friend and agent held out a large, steaming mug of very strong black coffee, and that alone, in Emma’s estimation, would have covered a multitude of sins.

Emma mumbled something that may have vaguely sounded like “Good morning” before falling heavily into her favorite chair at the kitchen table.

Not a bit deterred by Emma’s less-than-warm welcome, Ruby plopped into a chair next to her, her smile so wide and sunny, Emma half expected rainbows to shoot from her ears.

“Not to be, you know, rude,” Emma said, after taking a couple of fortifying sips of the hot brew, “but what are you doing here so early, Ruby?”

The woman in question rolled her eyes. “So early?  Emma it’s already 10:00!  You’ve just about slept the day away!”

Emma glanced to the swan-shaped clock on her kitchen wall, and noted that her agent had indeed spoken the truth. She was normally a much earlier riser, but, knowing she wasn’t due on set until 4:00 that afternoon, she’d turned off her alarm and indulged in a day of sleeping in.

“Guess you’re right about that,” she conceded. “But the question remains.  What’s up?”

To Emma’s surprise, Ruby blushed, dropped her eyes, and started absently toying with one of Emma’s placemats.

“It’s just,” Ruby said hesitantly, “well, Graham and I went out again last night.”

Emma’s eyebrows rose. Well that was interesting.  Ruby was more or less the poster-girl for the casual hook up.

“That’s, what? The fourth date you’ve been on with him in the last two weeks?” Emma asked, bringing the mug back to her lips.

“The fifth,” Ruby said, sending Emma a shy smile, “but who’s counting.”

“Wow, for you, that’s really getting serious.”

“I know!” Ruby said. “I’m not, you know, the long-term relationship type.  I like to just have fun, but with Graham…I don’t know, Emma; I just _like_ him.  Like, _really_ truly like him!”

Emma smiled and then reached over to cover her friend’s hand with her own. “Ruby, I think that’s great!  I really do.  Graham’s a great guy, and I think the two of you could be really good together.”

“You think so?” Ruby asked, the delight evident in her sparkling eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Ruby said, “because…well we’re supposed to go out again this Friday, and I think he wants to ask me to put a name to this…thing…going on between us. You know, like we’re boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Go for it,” Emma said.

“I think I will,” Ruby said, taking a sip of her coffee. “I was gonna go talk all of this over with Mary Margaret, because she’s like the true love expert (no offense to you, of course), but she’s sick this morning.  Apparently a stomach bug or something.”

“So she was telling the truth last night,” Emma said, feeling more than a little surprise. “I’d more than half expected her ‘sudden nausea’ was an elaborate matchmaking ploy.”

Suddenly Ruby perked up, like a wolf picking up a scent. “Matchmaking?  Last night?” she asked, leaning forward.  “Emma, what’s going on that neither of my best friends decided to fill me in about?”

Emma called herself about three kinds of fool. She’d walked herself right into that one.  She did _not_ want to have this conversation with Ruby—at least matchmaking, innuendo laden Ruby.  The compassionate, good-listener Ruby might be a different story.

“It’s nothing,” Emma said shortly. “It’s just…I went to dinner with David and Mary Margaret, and they invited Killian along.”

“Let me guess,” Ruby said, “when Mary Margaret got sick, she and David left you alone with tall, dark and sexy?”

“Yeah,” Emma said dryly, “something like that.”

Ruby was silent for several moments, and Emma saw something that looked like compassion in her eyes. “Emma,” her friend said, “something’s bothering you.  What is it?”

“I…talked to him,” Emma admitted, suddenly desperate to unburden herself, desperate for someone to tell her that what happened last night wasn’t as momentous as it felt.

“Okay,” Ruby said, drawing out the two syllables. “What…about?”

“I…I might have told him all about Neal and Walsh.”

Ruby abruptly sat tall in her chair, her brows nearly reaching to her hair line. “Really?  Emma, it wasn’t even until we’d been roommates for three years that you told _me_ about Neal.”

“I know!” Emma said in exasperation. “I don’t know what came over me!  We were just having a conversation, and he suddenly seemed so sympathetic, and, I don’t know!  It just came tumbling out.”

Ruby smiled—not her self-satisfied, “I knew it!” smile, but her compassionate “best friend” smile. “Emma, you _like_ him, don’t you?”

“What?!” Emma shot to her feet and started pacing.  “No!  I mean, we are getting along better now than at first, but no!  I don’t, I _can’t_ like him the way you’re implying!”

Ruby calmly took a sip of her coffee. “Why not?  And don’t give me that ‘his reputation as a playboy’ bull.  I think the last few weeks of working with him have shown you the tabloids at least greatly exaggerated.”

“He is…different from what I expected,” Emma admitted, “and last night he told me he wanted to be friends, but I think he might want more, deep down, and I…I just can’t take a chance that I’m wrong about him!”

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Ruby asked.

Emma blew out a long breath and dropped her eyes. “Sometimes…sometimes I wonder,” she admitted.  “I mean, I know what Neal and Walsh did to me…well, they were world-class jerks, but I can’t help but wonder…”

“Wonder what?”

“If…if it’s not really them at all,” Emma admitted, “if maybe it’s _me_ that’s the issue.  If I’m, I don’t know, _cursed_ or something.  If a happy ending just isn’t in the cards for me.”

Ruby came over to her and wrapped her in a hug. “Emma, I can guarantee that’s not the case.  There’s someone out there for you.  Maybe Killian, maybe not, but I know someone’s out there.  At the risk of sounding like Mary Margaret, you just have to hold on to hope.  And anyway, like you said, Killian told you he wants to be friends.  You obviously enjoy each other’s company; just focus on the friend part.  There’s plenty of time for the falling in love part if it’s meant to be.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

By the time Emma got to set that afternoon she was an absolute ball of nerves. Focusing on the friendship part would be a whole hell of a lot easier if her job didn’t require her to, you know, _make out_ with her “friend”.

Because, yeah. Today was the day they shot _that_ scene.

And Emma instinctively knew there was no way out of the “making out”. Regina had been playing up their chemistry and the rapidly developing relationship between Anna and Hook like _crazy_ lately.  She’d been explicit when discussing the scene.  She expected fireworks.

The butterflies started doing the tango in her stomach at the thought, visions of Killian’s handsome face lowering toward hers…of his warm, firm lips, soft, minty breath, tongues, heat, passion…she groaned. How was she going to _do_ this?

And _why_ was it such a big deal?  It wasn’t like it was real.  It was just a stage kiss.  She’d go through the motions as “Anna”, while a whole team of techs swarmed around her and Killian with sound equipment and cameras and lighting and everything else.  Not exactly romantic.

So if her heart could, you know, stop pounding as fast as if she’d just run a marathon, that’d be great.

“Afternoon, Swan.”

Emma closed her eyes, trying desperately to get a hold of herself before she came face to face with him. She took a couple of deep breaths and then turned, convinced she’d gotten over her stupidity.

And then she was confronted with him and his artfully tossled hair and heavy guyliner and leather… _everything_ …and chest hair on full display, and heaven help her, there should be a law against a man looking like that.

“Hey,” she squeaked, cleared her throat and then tried again. “Kinda nice to get the morning off, right?”

“Aye,” he said with a slight inclination of the head. He was silent for a moment, just looking at her.  “Look Swan, I thought perhaps we’d best discuss our plans for our scene today before we shoot.”

And somehow, Emma didn’t even know how it was physically possible, her heart started beating even faster. “Um…yeah, I guess.”

Killian scratched at the spot behind his ear, blushing slightly and turning his eyes away from her. Finally he looked back.  “I’ve had my fair share of scenes of this nature, being, after all, the leading man on many a chick flick, and I can assure you they’re always a bit awkward…particularly the characters’ first kiss.”

“So,” she said, “what do you do to make things…less awkward?”

“It’s best when there’s trust and understanding between the actors involved,” he said, looking into her eyes. “I assure you, Emma, I want you to be as comfortable as possible as we film today.  To that end, I’d like to propose that it be _you_ that takes the lead in Anna and Hook’s kiss.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Aye,” he said firmly. “It would seem to work well with Anna’s character, and it will ensure this is as pleasant an experience as possible for you.  You, love, decide the direction this kiss will take, and I’ll merely follow you.”

“But…I mean, you’re involved too. Don’t you want to …I don’t know…do something to make yourself more comfortable?”

His eyes widened melodramatically. “Why Swan, do you have intentions to take advantage of me?”

She rolled her eyes, barking out a laugh. “You are such an idiot.”

He grinned. “Aye, but tell the truth love, you quite enjoy my nonsense.”

She shot him a look. “Maybe.  From time to time.”

“Alright! Places everyone!” Regina shouted.  “We’ve got a lot to cover today, and I for one don’t want to be here until 4:00 in the morning.”

Emma took a deep breath as the nerves took over once more. This was…this was a lot to deal with, stage kiss or not.  She offered up a quick prayer that she didn’t make a _total_ fool of herself.

Emma took her place in the “jungle”, having just passed the flask back to Killian. She closed her eyes, took a couple deep breaths and got into character.

_“Did you really save him?” Anna asked, surprised in spite of herself._

_“Does that surprise you?” Hook asked, looking aside._

_She smirked. “Well you aren’t exactly, how do you say it, ‘mates’.”_

_“Doesn’t mean I’d leave your brother here to die,” he insisted._

_Anna looked carefully at him, looking for the lie, looking for the caveat. It wasn’t there.  Unless her ‘superpower’ was_ wildly _off, Captain Hook was telling the absolute truth. She felt a sudden, intense wave of gratitude, of grudging affection._

_“Thank you,” she said firmly._

_He was uncomfortable with praise; she could see that well enough in the way he ducked his head, scratched behind his ear, blushed to the roots of his hair. After an uncomfortable moment, he straightened, a look of pure mischief on his face as he swaggered toward her._

_“Aye, perhaps gratitude is in order,” he said, tapping his lips, and looking at her through heavily lidded eyes._

Emma’s breath caught. Had it suddenly gotten about twenty degrees warmer in this stupid studio?

_“Yeah,” Anna said, tiny smile on her lips. “That’s what the ‘thank you’ was for.”_

_His smirk became even more pronounced as he invaded her personal space. “That all your brother’s life is worth to you?”_

_He was ridiculous! His flirting was absolutely ridiculous, but…it was fun and it was exciting, and it wasn’t like anything was going to come of this anyway.  So why not flirt  back?_

_She swayed toward him and rolled her eyes with a little smirk. “Please!  You couldn’t handle it.”_

_He didn’t miss a beat, leaning in so close Anna could feel his breath hot against her face. “Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”_

_The way he popped that ‘t’ shouldn’t be allowed; it really shouldn’t._

_Anna stood irresolute for a moment, looking closely at him. This was a mistake; a_ huge _mistake! But…she was feeling good, and they’d just had a victory of sorts, and well, there was this weird_ tension _between them. Maybe if they just…got it out of their systems…_

And this was the moment of truth. The moment “Anna Swan” was supposed to haul off and kiss the stuffing out of Captain Hook.  Emma looked up at Killian, his eyes reflecting the mischief of Captain Hook…but also the reassurance of Killian Jones.

She choked. It was too much, too intense.  She couldn’t _do_ this.  She pulled at his lapels, letting her lips brush against his and then quickly pulling back, making it barely a peck.

(But God help her! Even that casual contact was enough to send an electric current shooting through her body.)

“Cut!” came Regina’s distinctly displeased voice. “What _was_ that, Miss Swan?  I’ve seen more passionate kisses between siblings!”

Well, that was a _whole_ different kind of disturbing, but Emma got Regina’s point.

“It just..” Emma tried. “It didn’t _feel_ right.  I mean, Anna’s closed off, right?  Is her first kiss with Captain Hook _really_ going to be all passionate and hot and all of that?”

Regina rolled her eyes so hard Emma was afraid she’d hurt herself. “Yes, Miss Swan, it is.  We _talked_ about this!  Anna’s had these simmering feelings for Hook ever since they met—feelings she’s kept strictly under wraps.  But suddenly caught up in the moment, she just wants to let it all go, just _reassure_ herself that kissing him wouldn’t be that big of a thing.  And then there’s the matter of his challenge to her.”

Emma knew that; had known her ploy for the demure peck was doomed before it began, still, her heart sank when she heard Regina call for take two of the scene.

_Stop it Emma!_ She chastised herself. _You aren’t some brand new actress about to have your first on-screen kiss_!  _This is no big deal! Pull yourself together!_

After a long, cleansing breath, she placed herself once more on her mark. She’d follow the script this time; she’d get this stupid scene over with.  The sooner the better.

The first part of the scene went well, Emma and Killian both delivering their lines with ease, everything about their body language screaming _chemistry_.

And then it was time for the kiss. Emma tensed up, grabbed his lapels, and pulled him almost violently to herself.  The kiss was longer this time; Emma let herself relax into it for the barest fraction of a moment.  But when it occurred to her that it felt good, _more_ than good to have Killian’s lips moving beneath hers, she panicked, pulling away quickly.

“Well, that was a _little_ better, I guess,” Regina groused, “but the two of you are flesh and blood people who have chemistry, who are supposed to be falling in love with each other, not two blocks of wood slamming up against each other!  Again!”

After two more failed attempts, it was clear Regina’s patience was completely at an end. “Let’s take five.  Emma; I’d suggest you take the time to get your head screwed on straight.  And Killian…just…talk some sense into her!”

Emma stalked off toward the bottle of water she’d left just off-stage. She took a long swig and then hung her head, wishing this day was just _over_.  She had to get this kiss right, she just _had_ to!  With every take they did the feelings crashed into her more and more.  How the _hell_ was she supposed to stay immune to Killian Jones and his ridiculously hot _everything_ , when she was forced to spend all afternoon kissing him?

“Alright there, Swan?”

The unexpected question made her jump, and he hastily apologized, a hand to her side to steady her. Emma refused to pull away.  There was no _way_ she was going to let him see that even _that_ casual touch nearly set her aflame.

“I’m…I’m just having a rough time of it today, Killian,” she said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.  I just _can’t_ get this scene the way Regina wants it.”

“Hey,” he said, turning her toward himself, looking at her with clear concern. “Relax love.  I meant what I said before.  I want you to be comfortable.  If this scene is too much for you today, I’ll speak to Regina.  I’m sure I can smooth things over, sweet talk her into using one of the takes we’ve already shot.”

Emma felt a warm glow spread through her at his concern. He spoke the truth.  He’d really, truly do whatever he needed to to make her comfortable.  Strangely enough, it was exactly what she needed to hear.

Emma smiled gently. “That’s really sweet, but Regina’s right.  That scene _needs_ a passionate kiss.  It’s perfect the way it’s written.  I’ve just got to find some way to…make it look natural.”

Killian reached up and hitched a stray lock of hair around her ear. “Just relax, Swan,” he said in a low voice.  “You’re over-thinking it.  Just let Anna’s feelings shine through and go with those feelings.”

They were called back to set far sooner than Emma would have liked. It had been a short break, the five minutes feeling more like a few seconds, but Emma felt more refreshed than she had all day.  It was going to be okay.  She could _do_ this.

As she took her place, she closed her eyes, consciously _became_ Anna.

_“Please,” Anna said softly, eyes rolling, head gently shaking. “You couldn’t handle it.”_

_Hook leaned closer, so close she could feel his breath, could smell the rum, the leather, the salt from the ocean. She felt herself slowly slipping under his spell.  “Perhaps_ you’re _the one who couldn’t handle it.”_

_She waited a heartbeat. Two.  She shouldn’t do this; she_ knew _she shouldn’t. This had_ big fat mistake _written all over it._

_But God help her, she was tired of the pain and the struggle. She just wanted to feel_ good _for a tiny moment in time._

_She grabbed his lapels and pulled him to her. Her lips met his, and she groaned, the feelings overwhelming her.  her hand found its way into his hair as she tilted her head, deepening the kiss._

_She knew she’d surprised Hook. It was written all over the slight stiffening of his body as her lips made contact with his._

_But it took him less than a heartbeat to catch up with her, his mouth slanting over hers, his lips parting for her, his ringed fingers tangling in her hair._

It went on and on, and Emma lost all sense of time, of space, of reality. Waves of pleasure, of heat, of want crashed over her as she dived in, letting her tongue duel with his.  This was…there were no words in English or any other language to describe it, but Emma knew with every fiber of her being that she’d _never_ be the same again.

“Cut! _Cut! CUT!_ You two keep this up and we’re gonna have to up this film’s rating.”

It was only when Regina was nearly in their faces that Emma came back to herself, realizing the director had been calling for the scene to cut for the past few minutes. She pulled her mouth free with a pop, heard Killian softly whisper her name— _her_ name; not Anna’s name—and suddenly the mortification hit her.

What had she just _done!?_

She mumbled something to Regina about how she was done for the day before nearly sprinting from the stage. Chances were…not good…Regina would agree to her terms, but she didn’t care.  She had to get _out_ of here, had to get some space, some air, some freaking perspective.

She was in her coat, starting to wrap her scarf around her neck when Killian showed up backstage, looking concerned.

“I’ve smoothed it over with Regina, love,” he said. “She agrees we have enough footage to splice together a good scene.”

“Good,” Emma said, looking _anywhere_ but at him.

He stopped her frantic movements with a hand to her arm. “Emma, love can we talk about this?”

She shot him a nonchalant look that was so fake a blind person could have seen it. “Nothing to talk about, Killian.  It was just a kiss.  Just a _stage_ kiss.  Our job, you know.”

He was quiet for a moment. “It was more than that, and you’re well aware of it.” 

Emma felt the fear claw at her, and she used that fear to fuel her anger. “Fine!  Whatever it was…it was a one-time thing!  Just…go, gather some firewood for your scene with Pan or something!”

He sighed deeply, but took a step back. “As you wish.”

 

_Notes:_

_\-- Everyone ready for this week’s episode? (5x20 Firebird)? I have a feeling it’s going to have some AMAZING moments for us and our favorite pirate and savior…but I also have a feeling we’re in for a serious ride on the angst train.  It’s just too early in the arc for CS to get a TL moment, AND for Killian to be brought back to life, and the main quest of the arc to be wrapped up!_

_\--So…with today’s episode of the story…I was thinking the other day about how the actors do multiple takes for each scene they film, which, of course, means there were multiple takes of the famous Neverland kiss. (JMo has such a terrible job; I don’t know how she stands it, lol.)  Now, it seems clear that JMo and Colin are just good friends, and true professionals and it’s all part of the job and all of that, but it made me think.  What if you had a pair of actors who had feelings for each other—even if one of them would deny it up one side and down the other—and they had to do multiple takes of a scene like that.  BOUND to be fireworks!  And voila!  The chapter was born._

_\--Up next: Emma, totally freaked out about the kiss incident, goes to work on rebuilding her walls as fast as she can. *sigh*  Meanwhile the kiss made Killian realize the strength of his own feelings…but how is he to proceed when Emma will barely even_ look _at him?_


	7. Chapter 7

Somehow, she wasn’t entirely sure how, Emma made it through the rest of filming that week. Things were…awkward at best between her and Killian.  She saw him shooting her looks.  He wanted to talk to her about “the incident”, as she’d termed it in her mind, she knew that well enough.  He’d even tried to bring it up a time or two.

After the third time she’d bluntly walked away the moment things started getting anywhere close to serious, he’d finally taken the hint and stopped bringing it up.

It didn’t stop the way he looked at her, though. Even Regina commented on it, rolling her eyes and muttering something about “yearning looks and doe-y eyes”.

Emma got in her yellow bug on Friday night and let out the breath she hadn’t remembered she was holding. TGIF.  She needed the weekend like air.  She needed a chance to…process all the crap from this week.  She needed a breather from Mr. Lovesick Pirate.  She just needed to be _away_ from it all.

Not that the rest of the week had been _bad_ , per se.  They’d filmed a couple of romantic scenes: the scene in the echo caves where Hook admitted to Anna that he was falling in love with her and the scene where he vowed to win her heart, and those had been a bit…awkward, but other than that, she’d enjoyed the scenes she filmed this week.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true. There was also that scene in Dark Hollow where Pan’s shadow almost killed Hook and Baelfire.  That one had left Emma utterly drained.  It had taken her a while to get into the proper mindset for the scene.  It was just hard to dredge up the appropriate amount of panic when your scene partners are standing on platforms against a green screen, just thrashing around and yelling at nothing.

She’d closed her eyes, tried to imagine someone she cared for in mortal danger, the feelings that would be coursing through her in that situation, but it was easier said and done. The truth was, the only way she was able to dredge up the appropriate amount of panic was thinking about Killian being killed.  She imagined him being stabbed in the back by David.  She imagined him with a huge, gaping wound in his neck, bleeding out.  She imagined being forced to run him through with a sword herself.

It was after that last one that she was able to summon enough panic as she called Hook’s name to satisfy Regina.

Emma didn’t want to think about what that said about her.

Well, she didn’t need to. She was headed for the weekend; a weekend where she could totally forget a certain piercing-eyed, smoldering pirate even existed.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Sunday night David and Mary Margaret had Emma over to their house for dinner. Emma had, at first, flat out refused to come, remembering the last time Mary Margaret had asked her to dinner, which had resulted in a one-on-one meal with Killian.

But Mary Margaret had absolutely assured her she would be their only guest. She’d further said there was something she and David wanted to tell her, and had sounded so dejected at Emma’s rejection, that Emma had finally relented.

When she’d arrived at the Nolans’ around four o’clock Sunday afternoon, both her brother and sister-in-law were busy in the kitchen, the smell of roasting chicken filled the air. Emma’s mouth watered at the scent.

Emma let herself into the house with her spare key, and from the look of things, David and Mary Margaret hadn’t heard her come in. They stood impossibly close together at the kitchen counter, punctuating their chopping of vegetables with tenderly murmured words and smiles.   It made Emma unaccountably sad to see their closeness, their obvious love.  Don’t get her wrong, she was happy for her brother and sister-in-law and their happiness, but…well, she’d never have that, never _let_ herself have that, and sometimes…sometimes she just felt _lonely_.

When David leaned in for what was obviously going to be the kind of kiss that would scar Emma for life, she decided it was _definitely_ time to let her presence be known.  She cleared her throat, and David and Mary Margaret jumped apart, clearly startled.

“Oh, Emma!” Mary Margaret said, “we didn’t hear you come in!”

“Yeah,” Emma said dryly. “I could see that.”

Mary Margaret smiled. “Can I get you something to drink?  We’re just finishing up the veggies.  I’ll get these guys in the oven to roast, and then dinner will be in about an hour.”

Emma shook her head. “No thanks; I’m good for now.  Smells great in here.  I always love it when you invite me to dinner; whatever you cook is always amazing.”

Mary Margaret blushed slightly, shrugging. “I like doing it.  I like taking care of my husband and family.  Besides, when I’m the one to do the cooking, I can almost always guilt David into offering to do the dishes.”

“Hey!” David said with a mock scowl. “I’m standing _right_ here!”

Emma laughed, noting how incredibly _happy_ the two of them seemed today.  They were always happy together, but there seemed to be something…extra…today.  She wondered why.

“You two seem to be in good moods today,” Emma said, filching a carrot stick from Mary Margaret’s veggie tray. “Any special reason?”

The two of them looked at each other, their smiles growing impossibly wider. Finally, Mary Margaret reached for her husband’s hand and then turned back to Emma.  “As a matter of fact there is.  That’s why we wanted to invite you over tonight; we wanted to tell you the news.”

“We’re expecting!” David cut in. “In just under eight months, there’ll be a bouncing new baby Nolan in the world!”

“Really?” Emma asked with a smile. “It finally happened?  That’s great!  I know how long you guys have wanted a kid!”

Mary Margaret stepped forward and hugged Emma. “I know!  We’re over the moon!  Just found out a couple of weeks ago.  We’ve decided to wait until I cross the twelve-week mark to make it public to the rest of the world, but I just couldn’t _wait_ any longer to tell you!”

Emma hugged her sister-in-law back. “I’m really happy for you both.  This is one lucky kid to have the two of you as parents.  And, of course, it goes without saying that Aunt Emma is going to spoil the little guy or girl like _crazy_.”

“I know!” Mary Margaret said. “I am _so_ excited!  I can’t wait to get started on the nursery, and find all the cute little baby clothes and everything else.  I’m hoping Granny at the diner will offer to knit the baby a blanket!  Her blankets are the _best._  Oh, and you know that other night?  I know you thought David and I were just trying to matchmake when we left you with Killian, but I really was sick!  Let me tell you, ‘morning sickness’ is the most misleading name ever!  It should be called ‘every part of the day I’m breathing sickness’. _Definitely_ not my favorite part of being pregnant.  I’m hoping…Emma?  Is everything okay?”

Emma realized she’d looked away, her lips turning down in a slight frown. Mention of Killian and that dinner…well, it brought back all the stress and awkwardness of the past week’s filming, and she just…she just wanted the confusing feelings to _stop_.

“Yeah,” she said, forcing a falsely-bright smile on her face. “Just great!”

It was obvious she hadn’t remotely convinced her perceptive sister-in-law. Mary Margaret shot her husband a significant look, and David muttered something about wanting to see what was going on in the game, making a hasty exit.

“Now,” Mary Margaret said, as soon as it was just the two of them, “I think we both know that’s not true. Your face fell as soon as I mentioned Killian.  This is _me_ , remember?  Your old roommate.  I _know_ when something’s bothering you. Anything you want to talk about?”

Emma was silent for a moment, but finally sighed, dropping into a chair at the kitchen table. Maybe it would be best to get this off her chest.  Maybe if she just…talked about it, she could make this confusing mix of feelings within her go away—attraction, the kind of excitement that accompanies a new crush, fear, dread.

“I kissed him,” Emma said finally.

Mary Margaret took a deliberate sip of her tea, clearly trying to appear casual. “Um…who?” she asked.

“Killian,” Emma said. “I kissed Killian.”

“Well, yes,” Mary Margaret said slowly. “That was, after all, what the script called for.”

“No,” Emma said, fighting the panic threatening to well up. “I mean..yes, that’s when it happened, but…but it wasn’t just the script.  I…I was _really_ kissing him, and he was _really_ kissing me back!”

“Oh,” Mary Margaret said, “well…why?”

“I don’t know!” Emma said, getting to her feet and starting to pace. “At first, I just wanted to get it over with, and then I just…wanted to see what kissing him would be like and, I don’t know!  It’s been a while?”

“Did it…mean anything?”

The question made Emma’s heart race, the fear coming fast and hard. “No!” she insisted a bit too vehemently.  “It was just a _kiss_!  It couldn’t mean anything!”

Mary Margaret was silent for a moment. Finally she patted the chair beside hers.  “Emma, have a seat.” 

After a moment, Emma did as she was told. “If this is going to be another one of your patented ‘love is worth it and you have to hold on to hope’ speeches, you know you’ve already used them all on me, right?”

Mary Margaret smiled. “Well, it’s a good thing, then, that that’s not what this is.”

“Okay…so what is this?”

“Emma,” she said gently, “that kiss wasn’t nothing, and you know it.”

“What?” Emma squeaked, “of course it was! It was…”

“No Emma,” Mary Margaret said with a gentle shake of her head. “I _know_ you!  You never would have brought it up if it was _nothing_.  You’re running scared; I see it in your eyes.  You’re terrified if you let down those walls, Killian will hurt you, and you know what?  I can’t promise he won’t; no one can.”

“Is this supposed to be a pep talk?” Emma asked dryly.

“Absolutely! But that’s not the pep talk part.  It’s coming up.  I _know_ what Neal and Walsh did to you.  I know what absolute scum-of-the-earth _losers_ they were!  I know those experiences make it hard to move on, but just think about something, alright?”

“Okay, what do you want me to think about?”

“Don’t let them keep hurting you,” Mary Margaret said gently. “Don’t let the terrible things they did to you keep festering forever.  Don’t let them rob you of the amazing happiness you could have—whether it’s with Killian or with someone else.  I can promise you from personal experience with your brother that knights in shining armor still exist.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Killian sighed as he slid into the usual booth at the Big Bad Wolf. He was the first one there; Dave and Robin must be held up in traffic.  Signaling the waiter, he ordered a shot of rum, and then turned to stare out the window.  It was a beautiful night.  Warm for autumn, the leaves just beginning to turn.

Too bad he couldn’t enjoy it as he’d like. Much as he enjoyed evenings with the lads, this weather was tailor made for a romantic stroll with one’s sweetheart.

If only his own sweetheart weren’t so blasted insistent on avoiding him like the plague.

The only time the lovely Miss Emma Swan would so much as speak to him was when they were performing and she had no choice.

Was he truly such loathsome company? Had that kiss truly been so terrible for her that she could no longer even stand to look at him?

Because for him, it had been the farthest thing from terrible. It had been all he’d imagined and so much more.  It had been life-changing—in a very literal way.  The kiss exposed something he would have never expected.  Finally, finally after years of pain and regret he could put Milah in the past.  Though there’d likely always be a place in his heart for his first love, that kiss had shown him that a new love had entered his heart.

A love that delighted and frustrated him in equal measure. How was a man to react when the object of his love wanted nothing to do with him? 

Robin and David walked in, talking and laughing, distracting Killian briefly from his brooding. “You lot appear to be enjoying yourselves,” he said glumly.

“Yeah, it’s been a good day,” David said, “you, on the other hand, my friend, look like hell.”

Killian quirked his brow. “I’ll have you know my fans waiting outside the studio this afternoon assured me I’m as devilishly handsome as ever.”

Robin snorted a laugh. “Did the masses catch you this time, mate?”

Killian grinned, shaking his head. “I’ll say one thing for your fiancée.  She’s found a hell of a security firm.  Bloody convenient when you’re in no mood to smile and give autographs.”

David shot him a suspicious look. “Seems there are a lot of bad moods going around lately.  Emma was certainly feeling none too pleased at dinner yesterday.  Anything you need to tell me ‘mate’?”

Killian rolled his eyes. David was a good man, a good friend, but from time to time he was more protective than a Rottweiler.  “If you’re not so subtly asking if I caused your sister pain, the answer is no—at least not purposely.”

“From her reaction to your scenes today,” Robin said, taking a swig of his beer that the waitress had just brought him, “I’d say you caused her anger rather than pain.”

“Picked up on that too did you?” Killian asked dryly. “What gave it away?  Was it the fact that she won’t willingly say two words to me outside of shooting or the very clear gusto with which she performed today’s scene where Anna lays into Hook and Baelfire for fighting over her and almost getting us all killed?”

“Both. Assuredly both.”

Killian sighed again. “We were getting along quite nicely until we filmed that bloody kiss!”

“What happened with the kiss?” David growled.

“It was _real_ ,” Killian said.  “That was no stage kiss, Dave.  For either one of us.  Clearly she regrets what happened between us, and I haven’t a clue how to restore our relationship.”

David’s face turned even more forbidding. “I think it’s time you and I have a little talk about your intentions toward my sister, Killian.”

Killian shot him an amused look. “That’s a bit old-fashioned even for me, mate, and I play a man who still pays with doubloons.”

“Maybe so,” David said stubbornly, “but I know your reputation. I know about all the women you’ve cavorted with in the past few years.”

“Aye,” Killian said, turning serious. “Perhaps I did like to keep company with the ladies in the past, but I assure you, I wouldn’t spend so much time pursuing a relationship with a woman I see merely as loot.”

David continued to stare daggers at him for another moment, and then he nodded. Picking up his own mug of beer, he took a long sip before speaking again.  “So you’re interested in a relationship, are you?”

Killian nodded. “That kiss…I never believed I could get over my first love, my Milah.  That is until I met Emma.”

David clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s great!  You’ll be good for her!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Dave,” Killian said, with a dubious shake of his head. “It takes more than one person’s interest to make a relationship.  Your sister seems to want nothing to do with me.”

To Killian’s surprise, both his mates began laughing. Uproariously.

“You think she doesn’t _like_ you?” Robin asked, wiping at the tears in his eyes.  “Killian, even that dog the on-set shrink brings to set can see the way she looks at you.  Definitely not unaffected by your charm, that one!”

“I’ll second that,” David said. “Did you ever watch her TV show, Killian?”

Killian furrowed his brows. “Aye; what does _that_ have to do with anything?”

“Did you happen to catch her more romantic scenes with the sheriff?” David went on. “The director on set insisted those love scenes be so passionate they got right up to the line of what they were allowed to show on network television.”

“Aye. What of it mate?”

“Just this,” David said. “I was on set with her from time to time; watched her film.  Although, let me tell you, watching your sister film scenes like that…not fun.  Not fun at all.  Do you know what happened when the director yelled ‘cut’?”

“I haven’t a clue.”

“She and Graham Humbert stepped away from each other and immediately went back to their normal talking, laughing, friendly colleague relationship. No awkwardness, no blushing.  Making out with the sheriff was just her _job_ , and it meant nothing because all she felt for Graham was friendship.  If she’s reacting that strongly to your one on-screen kiss, that speaks volumes about the fact that she’s _anything_ but indifferent to you.”

“Is that truly what you believe?” Killian asked, hardly daring to hope.

“How much do you know about Emma’s past?” David asked.

“She told me a bit about Neal and Walsh.”

David nodded. “Then you understand a little bit.  She’s been hurt badly, but it wasn’t only what those sons of bitches did to her.  You know, she was in the system for years before my mom adopted her.  She’s told me a few stories about her experiences in foster homes, and let me tell you.  They’re _far_ from pretty.  Some of the things her foster parents did to her…well, I’ll just say you do _not_ want the details.  Anyway, the point is, from birth, Emma’s learned that you can’t trust people; you can’t let yourself care for them.  They’ll only hurt you.”

“And so she doesn’t trust in the sincerity of my affection for her?” Killian asked.

“I doubt it,” David said, shaking his head. “And even if she senses you _do_ mean it…I _know_ Emma.  She’s wondering just how long you’ll stick around.  She’s wondering how soon it’ll be before you break her heart too.”

Killian’s own heart broke at the picture Swan’s brother painted for him. This poor lost girl, starving for love, being abandoned, betrayed, sent away again and again.  No _wonder_ Emma was afraid to trust him.

“So what do you suggest I do, mate?”

“Stick around,” David said simply. “Show her you’re in this for the long haul.  Maybe give her a little space; show you do care about her boundaries, but make it clear as well that you’ll always be there for her when she needs you.”

For the first time all day, Killian really truly smiled. “I can do that.  It would, indeed, be my very great pleasure.”

 

_Notes:_

_\--Happy Friday again! Can you believe we’re already only one week from the finale?  This arc has flown by!  It’s been a busy week, but given the beautiful pain of the last episode (I spent the first half of the week in denial, insisting the episode ended right after CS passed the TL test, lol), I figured this was definitely not the week to skip the fluff!_

_\--Not much CS interaction in this chapter, but the two of them had some good conversations with Snowing—the ultimate TL couple! I think, even if she’s scared, Emma’s starting to come around, at least a bit._

_\--Up next: Killian tells Emma he’s going to back off as she clearly wants.  He keeps his word…and she finds she misses him.  What will she decide to do about it…?_

_\--Scheduling note: This week my church’s music director resigned, and my priest asked me to step into her position in the interim until they’re able to hire someone else. The result?  I’m about to get really, really busy.  I may have no choice but to cut back on non-essential things.  I’ll finish the Taking Back Neverland plot (2 more chapters of that) on the regular schedule, but after that, I may have to update Fluffy Fridays a little less frequently (maybe more like once or twice a month, rather than once a week.)_


	8. Chapter 8

Emma took a long sip from her bottle of water, pausing to push a damp, sweaty lock of hair behind her ear before sipping again. It had been a demanding day on set.  They’d spent long hours filming action scenes—the heroes finally discovering Pan’s ultimate goal and then rushing to Skull Rock to stop him from taking Henry’s heart.

It wasn’t merely the physical demands that left her exhausted and thoroughly drained; there were the emotions as well. She figured only an actor could truly appreciate how exhausting it was to work yourself into a state of high emotion—and stay there for hours on end.

But if Emma was being thoroughly honest with herself, it wasn’t merely the exhaustion of portraying strong emotions that was tiring her, it was…how very close to home those emotions hit. In the movie, she was reacting to losing her son, to watching as he gave his heart to Pan, naively believing he was saving magic, to watching him crumple to the ground unconscious. 

Emma knew what it was like to lose her son. Granted, her boy hadn’t died—that she knew of, at least—but she’d lost him all the same.  She’d lost him before she’d ever been able to see him.  She doubted she’d ever forget the sound of those strong little cries as the nurses cleaned him up after his birth.  She’d turned her head aside, determined not to even _look_ at him, because if she did, she knew she’d break.  Her arms that ached to hold him would take him and she’d never, _never_ be able to let him go.

She blinked the tears back, sniffing lightly. She’d been emotional enough today—even if it was just acting—she wasn’t going to break down again.  She _wasn’t_!  That time, no matter how painful, was _over_.  She’d moved on with her life, and if she occasionally thought about her son, her little boy, wondered where he was and what he was doing, if he was happy….well, she tried to keep those times to a minimum.  She’d done what she had to to give him his best chance, and she just had to trust it had worked out for him.

“Alright there, Swan?”

Her heart stuttered and then began to race at the warm, concerned sound in Killian’s accented voice. It was a good voice; a soothing voice.  Something like…smooth hot chocolate with a hint of spice…cinnamon, maybe.

She took a deep breath, surprised (and maybe a little dismayed) at her reaction. They hadn’t filmed together today and it was the first time she’d so much as seen him since their last scene together two days ago. 

“Yeah,” she said, pasting on a smile. “Just one of those days where it’s all emotional scenes all the time.”

He nodded sympathetically. “Ah yes,” he said.  “Hard to turn off the emotion after hours of ginning it up, aye?”

“Something like that,” she answered, having the sudden desire to talk to him, to let him know how very close to home the scene had truly come, to bare to him all her heartache over that worst day of her life.

But things were weird between them now, had been ever since the kiss scene a week and a half ago. The friendship, easy camaraderie they’d had when they first started filming together was just…gone.

It was her fault; she knew it was. The first day on set after her conversation with Mary Margaret, Killian had come up to her after they wrapped for the day.

“Swan,” he said, fidgeting slightly, his thumb and fingers tapping against each other. “If you’ve a moment, I have something I’d like to speak to you about.”

He was nervous; that much was plain, and his nerves naturally put her a little on edge. Whatever he wanted to say to her was big, important, and…she just wasn’t sure she was ready for it yet; didn’t know if she’d ever be.

“I’ve got dinner plans with Ruby,” she said shortly, “so make it quick.”

He sighed, glanced at the ground for a moment, and reached up to scratch behind his ear. After a moment, he seemed to get ahold of himself, straightening, looking her firmly in the eye, and swaying toward her slightly.

“Swan,” he began again, in a voice firm with resolve, “it’s perhaps time we discuss the elephant in the room.”

Oh this wasn’t starting well. This wasn’t starting well at all.  Emma didn’t talk about elephants in the room.  She ignored them, avoided them at all costs, going so far as to run away from the room if necessary, and let the gigantic creatures trumpet their unnaturally long trunks to their hearts’ content.

But something about the way Killian was looking at her, with gentleness as well as resolve, with care for her as well as nervousness for himself, left her rooted to place.

“Emma…” he began again, “you cannot be unaware that that kiss we shot…it was not merely acting for me. You know I’ve developed feelings for you.”

Her heart started racing. “Killian…it was just a _kiss_!  It wasn’t…”

He stopped her with a raised hand. “I know love; please let me finish.”

She sighed, but nodded.

“I know you’re not ready, you’re still tentative because you had your heart broken, but you know what? I’m _glad_ for it.”

She crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at him. “You’re _glad_ I got my heart broken?”

“Aye,” he said, stepping closer to her, “because if it’s broken, it means it still works.”

“Killian…”

He stopped her again. “I need you to know, Emma, that I’m in this for the long haul, I’d follow you to the end of the world or time, but I have no desire, none at all, to pressure you or make you uneasy.  To that end, I’m going to back off.  Just know if you ever need anything, anything at all, you’ve but to let me know.”

And then he was gone, leaving so abruptly she didn’t even have time to respond. Not that she could have formed coherent sentences after a speech like _that_ delivered with Killian’s particular brand of intensity.

And over the last week and a little more, he’d carefully kept his promise. They barely spoke, save for what their characters said to each other on screen.  Whereas before, they’d often head to the break room together during on-set breaks, content to sit in companionable silence, now…well, she went to the break room, but he nodded politely to her and headed in the opposite direction.

She wouldn’t admit it, least of all to him, but she _missed_ him.

“Yeah,” she said, bringing her mind back to the conversation at present. “There’s nothing about watching your onscreen son give his heart to a psychopath and then collapse over and over and over again that isn’t rough emotionally speaking.”

His eyes became even more concerned, and he reached his hand out as though to grasp her arm but pulled it back at the last moment. “Well at least that should be one of the last scenes of such negative emotion.  Tomorrow we film you and your sister retrieving the lad’s heart and then restoring him to life.”

“Yeah,” she said smiling. “Can you believe we only have a few more scenes to shoot?  Seems like these few months have flown by.”

“Indeed they have.”

“So,” she said casually, “you got plans for tonight? I thought I’d see if David and Mary Margaret and some of the rest wanted to go out for drinks later.  Well, I suppose Mary Margaret wouldn’t be up for drinks—at least not the fun kind—in her current condition, but it’s always good to have a designated driver, right?”

She was starting to babble, and her face reddened more with every ridiculous word she said. What was the big deal?  She was just asking a co-worker to hang out with her—and several others—after work.  Not like she was asking for a date or anything. 

She knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth. The slightly pained look in his eyes gave it away.  “I’d love to join you, Swan, but I’m afraid I already have plans.”

At that moment, his lively, blonde agent walked in and walked their way. “You have plans with Tink?  Wait…are you two…?”

“No!” the lady in question said quickly.

“Perhaps,” Killian said, hand going to his belt buckle, leaning back with a ridiculous amount of swagger, tongue doing positively indecent things to the corner of his mouth. “Jealous, Swan?”

She scoffed. “You wish!”

She turned, ready to stalk off, when he stopped her with a hand to her arm. “Wait, love.  The lady is right.  There’s nothing of a personal nature going on here.  We’ve merely scheduled a business dinner to suggest potential projects once this film wraps.”

Emma felt a swift and immediate rush of relief…which, of course, annoyed the crap out of her. What the hell did she care if he was dating Tink or not?  He could date all the women within a twenty mile radius for all she cared!

“Well, have fun,” she said, turning away. “See you…whenever we film again.”

He looked like he wished to speak again, but contented himself with a mere nod before heading off with his bubbly agent.

“You know, he really likes you,” Emma heard from behind her. She turned around to find herself face to face with her “son” Henry.

“I don’t know, Henry,” she said, skeptically.

“Well _I_ do,” Henry said earnestly.

“Sometimes things are…more complicated…than they look,” Emma hedged. “I know it’s probably hard to understand, but things can be kind of…messy…with adults.”

Henry rolled his eyes and sighed. “You know, Emma, grown-ups never think kids know things.  They _always_ say we can’t understand!  I understand things.”

Emma smiled, in spite of herself. There was something so earnest and open about this kid.  She couldn’t help but be drawn to him.  “Guess you’re right.  Maybe we aren’t fair all the time.”

He grinned up at her, and for a moment her breath caught. That grin was so _familiar_.  Reminded her a bit of Neal…back before he’d revealed himself to be a total crap person.  He had that same kind of…joyful carefree spirit.

Emma had gotten to know Henry quite a bit over the last week or two. With things being so…weird between her and Killian, Emma spent more time in between takes hanging out around set, watching other scenes being filmed.  The kid was really a pretty good little actor.  She bought what he was selling.

Then they’d filmed a few scenes that Anna and Henry had together, and Emma got to know the kid even more. He was smart and idealistic.  Always saw the best in everyone.  Had more faith in…everything…than Emma had ever seen.

Regina couldn’t have possibly cast a better person for the “truest believer”.

Emma felt a quick pang as she thought about how very close they were coming to the end of filming. The thought of wrapping for good…and maybe never seeing Henry again, never getting to work this closely with him, well it didn’t set well.  They’d really become close, and she’d _miss_ the little guy.

“I know you’ve been kind of sad lately,” Henry said, looking up at her with serious brown eyes. “And I know you and Killian haven’t been such good friends.  I just…I think he misses you as much as you miss him.”

“I don’t…” she began.

He stopped her with another groan. “Yes you do, Emma!” he said.  “I can see the way you look at him…and the way he looks at you.  All gross and mushy and stuff.  Maybe you should talk to him.  Tell him you like him…”

Emma felt the nerves kick in. She didn’t _want_ to like him.  She didn’t _want_ these feelings she could no longer deny to herself she felt.  Falling for someone—it was making yourself vulnerable, and she didn’t _do_ vulnerable.

But what good was protecting your heart if you ended up miserable anyway? Yeah, maybe he’d break her heart, but, well, maybe not.  Maybe this fire between them would settle into something really, really good.  Something that had _forever_ written all over it.  And if things went south later, at least she’d have the good memories they made together.

Maybe…and Emma couldn’t _believe_ she was even thinking this…maybe it was time to take a leap of faith.

“Maybe you’re right, kid,” she said, ruffling his hair.

“Of course I am,” he said with that same sunny grin. “And, Emma…I think you’re really cool.  I think you should be happy, and I think Killian would make you happy.”

“Alright, Henry, you convinced me,” she finally said, the butterflies going crazy in her stomach at the decision she was making. “I’ll ask him out next time I see him.”

 

_Notes:_

_\--Happy Friday! (And happy two days before the finale!) Last Sunday’s episode was an emotional roller coaster, wasn’t it?  I loved the joyful CS reunion, but…Robin!  (I still refuse to believe he’s gone for good.  I might just be in denial, but it makes me happy, so yeah.  Robin’s totally coming back! *shh* Let me live in my land of ridiculous optimism!)_

_\--So, Emma clearly misses Killian in this chapter after he backed off. But…she finally made up her mind to take the plunge and give him a chance.  Yay!_

_\--Up next: The last chapter! Emma follows through and asks Killian out. Will he say yes? (lol, duh!) The filming wraps up with a very happy Anna/Hook scene that’s inspired by the end of the Neverland arc, and there are all kinds of interesting revelations at the subsequent cast party..._


	9. Chapter 9

Killian settled into his favorite chair in the lounge with a long, satisfied sigh. Hard to believe they were only a few short days away from the end of filming.  He felt a distinct—and very unpleasant—pang at the thought.  He had but a few days to win Swan’s heart—or at least make significant strides towards doing so—or he might miss his chance entirely.

When they parted at the end of filming, if he hadn’t at least secured her friendship once again who was to say if he’d ever have a chance to see her again?

Killian had taken Dave’s advice. He’d bared his heart to Emma, letting her know of his interest, of his intention to be whatever she needed him to be, and then he’d backed off, given her space.  Unfortunately for him, she’d taken that space and run with it.

Now, a good several days later, they still barely spoke to one another.

Killian growled, hating the helpless feeling in his chest. He was not about to push the lass beyond what she wished to give him, but the thought of losing her forever made him almost physically ache.

Suddenly feeling restless, he got to his feet, headed toward the recreation area in the far corner of the room. Grabbing a handful of darts, he stepped back, eyed the target and took aim.

There had been something bothering Emma today. It had been clear enough as they were filming.  She seemed…tense or nervous or something of the kind.  He wished he still had the freedom to ask her what troubled her.

Perhaps it was naught but the emotional scene they’d shot this morning. Regina had insisted they begin filming at the crack of dawn, insisting they needed the brilliance of the sunrise to add the perfect backdrop to the scene where Anna and Henry bid goodbye to their family and friends for what they think is forever. 

(When Leroy had pointed out that there was no way Regina could know if the sunrise this particular morning would be anything spectacular, she’d glared at him in what Killian privately termed her “Evil Queen” look. “If I say there’ll be a brilliant sunrise, there’ll be a brilliant sunrise.  End of story.”  Perhaps even Mother Nature was hesitant to cross Regina Mills when she got into nearing-the-end-of-filming stress mode.  They’d experienced one of the most beautiful, colorful sunrises Killian had ever seen.  Privately he gloried in the way the sun’s rays highlighted the gold of Swan’s hair, but that was neither here nor there.)

The entire band of heroes (“Nevengers”, as Regina’s lad had termed them, to the amusement of all on set) had succeeded in their rescue mission and returned home to Storybrooke. All seemed well…until the demon Peter Pan was revealed to be in town as well.

The little bugger had managed to cast a terrible curse; a curse that would wipe all of their memories and effectively make them his slaves. Having found the scroll Pan used to cast the curse, they had realized it could be stopped…but it would require no little amount of sacrifice.

All but Henry would be pulled back to their homeland deep within the Enchanted Forest. Not wishing to leave her son alone in the world, Anna offered to remain with him.

Focused as he was on the ever looming separation they would soon experience in real life when filming came to an end, Killian found it depressingly easy to get into character for this one.

_She’d hugged her parents, and then, dropping her head, she walked slowly toward her vehicle. This wasn’t how it would end.  This_ couldn’t _be how it ended. If Hook was to lose Anna forever, he must have at least another moment with her._

_He wished he could be frank with her, wished he could tell her how truly, how passionately, how desperately he loved her. Wished he could break down and_ beg _her not to leave him. Wished he could take her in his arms and kiss her until neither of them could breathe._

_But to leave things in such a way would be agonizing. As always in this frustrating town he’d found himself in when he’d followed her back to Storybrooke, there was no time to explore such sentiment._

_Instead he merely stepped up to her and smiled fondly, his heart turning over at the sad smile she returned._

_“That’s quite the vessel you captain there, Swan.”_

_Her lips ticked up the slightest bit more at his silly quip, but he could see the tears she barely held at bay._

_This was it, the last moment he’d ever have with her. What did one say to the woman he loved at such a time?_

_“Not a day will go by that I don’t think of you,” he finally settled on, holding her gaze, letting every bit of his love shine through as he intently held her gaze._

_She looked at him for one heartbeat. Two.  “Good,” she finally answered._

_He smiled as they continued to look into each other’s eyes, memorizing each other, drinking each other in. It was somehow both the best and the worst thing she could have said to him.  It gave him_ hope _. Hope that she returned his feelings, hope that if they were to ever meet again she would welcome his advances._

_But hope when there’s no way to realize it is naught but sweet agony._

_After one last hug to her parents, Anna got into her automobile and slowly drove away as a billowing cloud of magic billowed all around him._

There were tears in Emma’s eyes as Regina finally yelled “Cut!”

She laughed, swiping at her damp cheeks. “That had to be one of the saddest scenes I’ve ever filmed.”

Killian grinned. “Agreed.  Lucky for us, we know there’s quite the reunion scene coming up.”  He’d let the innuendo creep into his voice, his eyebrow quirking flirtatiously.  He’d expected her to roll her eyes, make a biting comment.

But instead, she’d blushed, the look on her face becoming both determined and nervous.

“Killian…” she started.

“Aye?”

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about…” she went on slowly.

“Aye Swan? What would that be.”

She was silent for several beats, and then suddenly she turned away, her shoulders dropping. “Never mind.  Wasn’t important.  I’ll see you back on set at the end of break.”

And without another word, she nearly ran from him.

It was unaccountable, Killian thought as he let the dart fly, watching in satisfaction as it hit the bull’s eye.   What could be bothering the woman today?  What made her nerves nearly swallow her whole?

“Killian?”

His breath hitched at the unexpected sound of her voice. He turned slowly around, pasting a welcoming smile on his face.  “Have I lost track of time, love?  Are we to return to set already?  Have I missed my call?”

“No, no,” she said, shifting slightly from one foot to the other. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Very well,” he answered, curiosity blossoming within. Nonchalantly, he turned back to the dartboard as she spoke her next words.

“I’m…I’m here to ask you out.”

His dart buried itself in the wall of the breakroom, a good foot away from the target. Turning slowly, he quirked his brow in question.

“To dinner…or something,” she clarified, her hands clasping and unclasping, the nerves evident on her face. Did the daft woman actually believe he would turn her down.

“I had rather believed I’d be the one asking you out.”

“Yeah, well I beat you to it,” she said, “but just so you know, _Captain Hook_ , I don’t, um, pillage and plunder on the first date.”

A bit of swagger was most definitely in order now. He stepped closer to her, a teasing grin on his face.  “That’s because you haven’t been out with me yet.”

She rolled her eyes with a smile.

“Very well, Swan,” he said, having a fair bit of difficulty keeping the overwhelming elation from showing in his voice. Wouldn’t do to scare the lady away.  “I happily accept on one condition.  Allow me to plan the date.”

“I know how to plan a date!” she said indignantly.

“Perhaps,” he conceded, “but after all the time I’ve dreamed of this moment, I’d like to make tonight perfect.”

She looked closely at him for a moment, and he wondered if he’d come on to strong. Eventually she nodded.  “Fine.  Pick me up at 7:00.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

“Shall I order us some drinks, love?”

Emma looked across the red and white checkered table cloth at Killian and found herself strongly considering it, but finally she shook her head. “Not tonight.”

He settled back in his chair, elbow settled on the chair’s arm rest, tongue darting out to wet the corner of his lips, looking up at her through hooded eyelids. Talk about turning up the smolder to dangerous levels.  “Afraid you’ll find me even more irresistible after a few libations?”

She found herself in a strange quandary, not sure whether she wanted to laugh at his antics…or jump him then and there and be done with it. _Is it suddenly getting really hot in here?_

“No,” she finally said, smoothing the tablecloth before her. “I just want to stay clear headed.  We have an early call tomorrow, some important scenes to film.”

Killian smiled, and this time it was his genuine, caring smile, rather than the teasing flirtation. He reached across the table with both hands, and Emma placed her own within his.  He held her hands gently, letting his thumbs brush across the back of her fingers.

(If the sensation _that_ produced shot from her hands straight up to her heart, no one needed to know that but her.)

“Swan, forget work for one night. I didn’t bring you here to fret about upcoming scenes; I brought you here to show you a good time.”

And a good time she was having—a far better, far more pleasant, far more _comfortable_ time than she’d ever thought she would on a date with Killian Jones.

When she’d gotten home from work this evening, she’d headed directly to her closet, feeling a fluttering of butterflies in a way she hadn’t before a date in _years_.  This wasn’t a big deal; it was just a first date.  That’s it.

But it wasn’t. Somehow, whether she was ready to admit it or not, she know this wasn’t _just_ a first date.  Her making the choice to ask him out…well, it was admitting what had been building between them for weeks.  This wasn’t just a date.  This was the _start_ of something.

Emma had torn through her closet, trying and discarding nearly every item of clothing she owned. Finally she’d settled on a soft pink knee-length dress.  It was pretty and feminine, the off-the-shoulders straps and v-neckline enticing while remaining tasteful.

She’d completed the look with a loose, high ponytail, and then had spent far more time than she’d ever admit experimenting with make-up until she’d found just the right look.

When she’d opened her apartment door to Killian an hour later, his reaction had made all her effort worth it. He’d been speechless for a moment, merely looking at her with appreciation.  “You look stunning, Swan,” he’d said finally.

He wasn’t looking too bad himself with his tight dark jeans, deep blue button up that accented his gorgeous eyes, and black leather jacket. She’d taken a quick, deep breath when she’d seen him.  “You look…” she’d begun, not even sure what adjective she intended to use.

“I know,” he said with a cocky grin, putting her immediately at ease.

He’d swept his left hand from behind his back and presented her a single, long-stemmed red rose with a flourish. She’d taken the offering, bringing it immediately to her nose, touched and pleased at the romantic gesture.

He’d taken her to a tiny little Italian restaurant on the other side of town. He’d seated her, pulling out her chair and making sure she was settled before he’d taken his own seat.

It was all so romantic and beautiful, and Emma felt her heart turn over at the thought of how much effort and thought he’d put into this evening. He’d done this for _her_.  She couldn’t think of the last time someone had put her first to such a large extent, and it warmed her to her very toes.

“A good time,” she said, coming back to the present and enjoying his warm hands surrounding hers. “Yeah, I could go for that.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Killian followed Emma up the staircase to her apartment door two hours later, amazed time had flown so quickly. It had been one of the best evenings of his life, and he desperately hoped it was just the beginning of several such dates to come.

They’d shared companionable conversation as they ate their dinner. Talking and laughing about happenings on set, sharing amusing stories from their past, just generally enjoying each other’s company.

It was during desert—a sinfully rich helping of tiramisu they shared between them—that things turned serious.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked her carefully.

“You just did,” she said with a smirk, popping another bite in her mouth.

Killian smiled and then sobered, reaching over to take her hand, lacing their fingers. “Something else, then?”

He saw the wariness enter her eyes at his serious tone. He squeezed her hand in reassurance.  After a moment she nodded.

“Why?” he asked simply.  “I’m nowhere near complaining, darling, but why did you decide to ask me out?”

She’d shrugged, glancing aside before turning to meet his gaze once more. “I just…I kind of missed you.  I mean, we were still working together and everything, but, you know, we never spent any time together beyond that, and I’d gotten used to our friendship and…okay, truthfully, we both know there was a…spark during that scene where Anna and Hook had their first kiss, and you’ve been nothing but a gentlemen, and, I don’t know.  I guess I might have misjudged you at first.  Thought we owed it to ourselves to see if there’s really anything here.”

His smile grew as she muddled through her explanation. There was no doubt, no doubt whatsoever in his mind that there was definitely something there between them.  For him, it was something along the lines of white picket fences and a family and _forever_ , but for her…well, he knew he had to be patient.

But then something she said registered, and he frowned. “But love, why did you judge me so harshly?  What had I done to offend you before we’d even met?”

Emma blushed and glanced aside, picking at a napkin with her free hand. “You just…you know…had a reputation.  You were supposed to be this big playboy who took a different woman home with you every night.  I just kind of assumed you were the douchy type.  You know, the kind of guy that likes to just use women and toss them away.  Now I know you’re not like that, but…well, I kind of wish I hadn’t automatically jumped to conclusions.”

Killian’s heart dropped at her words, his mind going to the many meaningless encounters he’d had with women as he tried to numb his pain. He took a deep breath and pulled his hand back.  She looked up at him, eyes wounded, fearing no doubt that she’d offended him.

“It’s quite alright Emma,” he hastened to reassure. “Truthfully…the reputation you speak of…it’s exaggerated, but it was built on some degree of truth.”

And then he’d proceeded to bare his heart to her once more, telling her about Milah and the terrible emptiness and pain that had descended on his life after her death, about the way he’d attempted to assuage it through meaningless nights with women, through far too much rum than could ever be considered good for him. How none of it, not one bit had ever truly made a difference.

He’d seen the light of understanding, of compassion come into her eyes then, and she’d reached over and taken his hand once more. This time it was _her_ thumb caressing his hand.  His Swan was not one for words, but that tiny gesture spoke more eloquently than an entire soliloquy could have done.  It warmed his heart and made him topple even farther into love with her.

Heavy conversation over, Killian had picked up the check, and they’d headed for the beach outside of the restaurant. Neither ready to say goodbye to the other, they’d walked hand in hand as the waves washed over their feet, talking about nothing and everything all at once.

She’d grown cold as they walked; he saw the goosebumps on her arms by the light of the full moon. Determined to give her nothing but pleasant memories of their first date, he’d shrugged out of his coat and draped it around her shoulders, and there it still sat as they reached the top of the flight of stairs and stood facing each other in front of her apartment door.

Emma smiled up at him. “Not bad,” she said, taking his hands with both of hers, linking their fingers.  “Looks like ‘Captain Hook’ really does know how to plan a date.”

“I’m offended you ever doubted me, Swan,” he said, mock pain covering his face.

She laughed, looking into his eyes…and then letting her gaze settle onto his lips. Would it be too forward to lean in and kiss her goodnight?  Would she welcome his advances, or would they frighten her away?

She settled the matter for him, standing on her tiptoes, swaying forward and letting her lips meet his.  It was a slow kiss, tender, gentle, but oh so thorough.  When he felt his need for her begin to build to nearly fever pitch, he reluctantly pulled back, feeling an intense satisfaction when she chased his mouth with her own, finally pulling back herself with a tender smile.

“Well that was…” she began.

“If you say ‘a onetime thing’, I believe I will die of disappointment, Swan.”

She laughed again, swatting playfully at his chest. “Idiot,” she answered.  “I think I can safely say that was something I’d be willing to repeat.”

His eyes lit up at her words.

Emma turned around, shrugged out of his jacket and handed it back to him. “I’d invite you in for…coffee,” she said, her cheeks going a delightful shade of pink, “but, you know, early call tomorrow and all of that.”

Killian reached up and cupped her cheek, caressing it with his thumb. “No matter Swan,” he said softly.  “I’m not interested in a torrid affair.  I should like for us to build something real together.  Something that will last.  No need to rush.  We’ve all our lives ahead of us to tend this fire blazing between us.”

Her smile widened, and she leaned forward, placing one more quick kiss against his lips before opening her apartment door. “Goodnight Killian.  See you in the morning.”

“Aye,” he answered. “Goodnight love.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Emma felt like she was floating on air as she made her way to set the next morning. Last night had been one of the best dates of her life.  It kind of surprised her how much she genuinely liked Killian.

It surprised her even more how that realization didn’t scare her at all.

The fact was, she _trusted_ Killian.  She could afford to let herself fall; she knew he’d catch her.

“Morning, love,” he said with a broad smile the moment she stepped onto set. “Ready to film our last scene together?”

She smiled back. “Yeah,” she answered.  “Turns out I’ve been looking forward to this scene all night.”

He swaggered toward her. “Whatever for, darling?  Could it be because you eagerly anticipate sharing another kiss with a dashing pirate.”

She grinned, reaching up to pat his cheek. “Could be.”

His eyes widened at that. She laughed, rather enjoying being able to surprise _him_ for once.

“Alright, break it up!” Leroy shouted. “Let’s get this show on the road.  Places everyone.”

Emma gave Killian one last smile, and then stepped through the door onto the set that was to function as Anna and Henry’s apartment.

_Anna placed a steaming plate of food before her son, enjoying the easy simplicity of a Saturday morning spent with her kid. Life was_ good _. Granted, for months she’d been having this feeling that something just didn’t_ compute _. Something…she didn’t even know what…but_ something _was missing._

_“Mom, you forgot something,” Henry said, peering into his mug of hot cocoa._

_Anna looked over at him and then snapped her fingers. “That’s right!  Cinnamon.”_

_She had just gotten to her feet, turning toward the kitchen to grab the missing spice when someone began banging on their door. She looked up, surprised._

_“Someone coming over?” Henry asked._

_“No,” she said. “Henry wait here.”_

_She approached the door cautiously, wondering who could be banging on her door at freaking 9:00 on a Saturday morning._

_Nothing could have prepared her for the drop dead gorgeous man standing in her doorway. The drop dead gorgeous man who was dressed like a…pirate?_

_At the sight of her, the man’s entire face lit up. “Swan,” he breathed, “at last.”_

_He took a step forward, preparing to enter. She put up a hand, pushing him back.  “Do I know you?”_

_“I need your help,” he said urgently, “something’s happened, something terrible. Your family is in trouble.”_

_Yeah…so, drop dead gorgeous this guy might be but he was also certifiable._

_“My family’s right here. Who are you?”_

_“An old friend,” he answered._

_There was something about this man…something about the voice…that she remembered, something that was eluding her, just out of reach. A moment ago, she’d have sworn she’d never seen this guy before in her life, but now?  Now…crazy as it was, she was starting to wonder, wonder if…_

_“I know you can’t remember me,” he continued, glancing down at her lips, “but I can make you.”_

_With no more ado, the man surged forward, locking his lips with hers._

_Anna’s first instinct was to shove him back, knee him in a place that would raise his voice a full octave, but something stopped her.   Something urged her on, urged her to lean into him, curling her hand around the nape of his neck._

_And the moment she did there was a pulse, like a shockwave, that crashed over her. Sudden images flashed through her mind.  Henry being kidnapped.  Going to Neverland to search for him.  Her brother and sister-in-law at her side.  The battle with Peter Pan.  Saying goodbye at the town line and driving away.  And…and…_

_“Hook!” she breathed, stepping back to look at him._

_“You remember?” he asked, smiling._

_“Yeah, everything…what…what just happened.”_

_“Duh!” Henry said, coming up beside them and grinning. “Had to be True Love’s Kiss!”_

_Her heart pounded. “You…you think so kid?”_

_“Of course!” he said. “And you know I’m right.  I’m the truest believer after all.”_

_She…didn’t know how to respond to that other than to turn back to Hook, drag him to her bodily and kiss the daylights out of him until her son loudly protested their “grossness”._

_“Ew!” Henry said. “Hook, don’t tell me you came all the way to New York just to kiss my mom!  That’s disgusting.”_

_Hook smiled. “I’d go to the ends of the earth for a chance to kiss your mum, but as it happens, that’s not the only reason I’m here.”_

_“Yeah?” Emma asked. “What else brought you?  Wait…did you say something about my family being in trouble?!  What happened?!!”_

_“Nothing the Savior can’t fix,” he said confidently. “Swan, are you and your son up for another adventure?”_

“And…cut!” Regina yelled.

Emma turned toward the director and was shocked to see the broad smile on her face.

“What?” she asked, noting a similar smile on Henry’s face…and the camera man’s face…and the sound guy’s face…and on Mary Margaret and David’s faces as they watched filming from off stage. “

“You’ve been holding out on me, Miss Swan,” Regina said. “Both of you, actually.  I knew you two had chemistry, but…that…well, that had enough bang behind it to blow up an entire chemistry lab.”

“Yeah,” Mary Margaret said, “that really was amazing Emma. Not that you’re not always a good actress, but something’s changed.  What is it?”

Emma took a deep breath and looked up at Killian. He watched her cautiously, clearly waiting for her to take the lead on this conversation; unsure how much she was ready to reveal. 

And suddenly, just like that, the last vestiges of fear evaporated to be replaced with incredible joy. Reaching down, she grabbed Killian’s hand, deftly lacing their fingers.

“Well, can’t take as much credit for today as you guys are giving me,” she grinned. “It’s not exactly hard to act when the feelings behind it are one hundred percent real.”

Mary Margaret gasped. “Wait…are you saying…?  Do you mean…?”

“Yeah,” Emma nodded. “Killian and I had a date last night, and…well…I hope that was just the first of many.”

Killian swooped down and kissed her cheek. “For my part, if I get my way, we’ll have a myriad of such evenings spanning the rest of our lives.”

Henry cheered while Mary Margaret swooped in to hug her. “Just _wait_ until Ruby finds out.  She’s going to totally flip out!”

Emma groaned, leaning her head on Killian’s shoulder. “Can’t say I’m looking forward to _that_ ‘I told you so’, but if it means I get to be this happy, I think it’s a price I’m willing to pay.”

_Notes:_

_\--Okay, so I lied. I couldn’t get the whole thing finished in this one chapter.  There’s still an epilogue to go.  It works out well, though, right?  This story can end up with an even ten chapters._

_\--Obviously both scenes they shot were heavily inspired by actual canon scenes, but I wanted to change the ending of 3x11 a bit. This was, after all, the last scene of their movie, so they needed a little more closure and happy ending.  That being said, though, Regina made sure to leave the ending a bit open…and that was for a very definite reason that she’ll be letting the cast know in the epilogue._

_\--Up next: the_ real _last chapter! The cast attends the premiere of their new movie—with a red carpet and everything—and then they head to_ The Big Bad Wolf _for an after party—where a few interesting revelations will be made._


	10. Chapter 10

_Six Months Later…_

Killian stepped back from his closet, tossing a skeptical look at the suit hung before him. Tight fitting breeches, long, brown coat with black trim, riding boots that rose to his knees.  He’d look like a right proper eighteenth-century English gentleman.

He sighed, shaking his head. Regina Mills was nothing if not thorough.  Eccentric as hell at times, but thorough.

Worked for her, though. Her attention to detail, her outlandish methods of promotion had done quite a bit to gin up excitement for this evening’s premiere of _Taking Back Neverland_.  This was shaping up to be the biggest hit Killian had ever starred in.

As further promotion, Regina had decreed that the fairytale feel must continue through the night. The cast was required ( _required_ , not requested) to attend the red-carpet premiere dressed in fairytale attire.  Following the showing of the film, they would travel to a replica of a medieval castle in a neighboring town for a premiere party ball.

There had been no little grumbling among the cast and crew when they learned the plan, having nearly unanimously decided a casual night with good food, good booze and good company at _The Big Bad Wolf_ would be more their style, but Regina had been implacable.  Robin…now her _husband_ …had smoothed ruffled feathers by suggesting a more relaxed after party for _after_ the premiere party be hosted by Granny.  Definitely the negotiator in the Mills-Hood family, that one!

Killian set about dressing for the evening, tossing on the blousy white shirt (leaving a fair number of buttons open), waistcoat and breaches. It was something of a minor miracle the film was already hitting the big screens.  Only six months from the last day of shooting to the premiere?  It was _unheard of_.  It seems, though, that Regina had pulled every string she could find to make it happen, insisting the ideal date of release was today, Valentine’s Day.

While not _strictly_ a romance, Hook’s romance with Emma did feature prominently in the film.  And he had been assured that their on screen chemistry sparked hotter than a wildfire.

After tossing on the long coat, Killian reached into his nightstand, and pulled out the small, velvet box he’d been carrying around every day for the past month and a half. Truth be told, his real life romance with the lovely Emma Swan sparked every bit as hot and he was ready, _more_ than ready, to take that next step.

Tonight would be the night; he was determined. Tonight he would ask the woman he loved to be his wife.  Depending on her answer, tonight would either be the best or worst night of his life.

If only he were sure Swan would say yes. Oh she loved him, he had no doubt of that, but was it _true_ love?  True love was special; it was magical.  It was something that didn’t come around every day.  Was Emma’s love for him strong enough to overpower her remaining fears, her remaining wounds from her past painful experiences?

He most certainly hoped so. If not…

Killian’s cell phone rang, pulling him back from his nervous reflections. Peering at the screen, Killian smiled, seeing Liam’s picture grin up at him.

“Brother!” Killian said by way of greeting, “what the bloody hell are you doing ringing me at, what is it? Nearly midnight where you are?”

Liam’s deep laugh came from the other end of the line. “Cheers to you too little brother.”

Killian grinned, resisting the urge to correct his brother’s “little brother” appellation. “Brilliant to hear from you Liam, but I’m afraid I can’t chat for long; I must leave to pick up Emma for the premiere in a scant quarter of an hour.”

“Aye, so I figured,” Liam said. “I merely rang to congratulate you on your film.  I’d tell you to break a leg, but as much as a klutz as you are, I fear you’d take me literally.”

“Haha,” Killian said dryly. “Quite the comedian you are, brother.  Will you _ever_ let me live down that unfortunate skiing incident a few years ago?”

“Of course not,” Liam quipped.   “It is a brother’s prerogative to never let his brother live _anything_ down.”

Killian chuckled. “Thanks for calling, Liam!  I’m quite looking forward to this film, to seeing my dashing self woo and win the heart of the lovely Miss Swan.”

“Speaking of,” Liam said, and Killian could hear the teasing grin on his face, “any interesting news to share with me on that front? After Christmas, I rather expected wedding bells to be ringing by this point.”

Killian had taken Emma home with him to England over Christmas to meet Liam and his wife, Elsa. The two women had seemed to hit it off immediately, becoming the best of friends by the time their two week-long holiday had come to an end.  It was during one afternoon that the ladies were off on a shopping expedition that Killian had approached Liam and asked for their mother’s wedding ring, stating his intention to pop the question to Emma at his earliest convenience.

“Not yet, brother,” Killian said, fingering the box in his pocket. “I’ve been waiting for the perfect time to ask her to be mine.”

“Well don’t wait too long, Killian,” Liam said. “If you let this one get away, I do believe Elsa will murder you herself.”

Killian laughed. “Wouldn’t want that.”  He hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath.  “If you must know, I have plans to pop the question tonight during the premiere party.”

“Splendid!” Liam said. “And Killian…you’ve no need to fret.  I saw the two of you together at Christmas, if you’ll recall.  Emma is head over arse in love with you.  She’ll jump at the chance to become your wife.”

“I do hope you’re right, brother,” Killian said with a shaky laugh.

“Of course I am,” Liam said smugly. “I’m always right.  Ring me later, aye?  No matter the time.  I’ve a wish to tell you I told you so the moment you’ve secured your lady’s hand…or at least the moment you’ve finished snogging each other’s faces off after the engagement.”

Killian laughed. “Should such a happy outcome occur, you will be the first to know.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Emma took Killian’s offered hand as he helped her out of the limo Regina had hired to take them to the cast party. She tripped slightly on her floor-length, red ball gown, unused to such attire, and Killian steadied her with a hand to her back.

“Alright there, love?” he asked absently.

She smiled up at him, her heart swelling at the care and tenderness he always showed toward her, no matter the circumstance.

Six months. She’d been dating him for six months.  Normally this was about the time the men in her life started getting cagey.  This was about the time they left her.  And so, Emma had come to dread the six month anniversary like the plague.  Inevitably it was the beginning of the end.

But with Killian she had no such fear. She loved him.  Truly _loved_ him, and he took every opportunity he could to show her her feelings were more than reciprocated.  It was joy and warmth and _home_.  Never had she made a better decision in her life than when she decided to take a chance on him.

They walked arm in arm across a red carpet set up for the occasion, past a swarm of screaming fans with flashing cameras, right up to the magnificent great hall doors, opened by two men dressed elaborately as eighteenth century valets.

Emma felt like a princess attending her first ball, her fairytale prince at her side.

When the doors opened to reveal a room filled with her friends and cast mates dressed as knights and ladies, princesses and princesses (or in Leroy’s case, as a court jester), Emma gasped in delight.

Or…at least she tried to. She definitely wasn’t going to miss the torture device known as a corset when she had a chance to shed it later tonight!

“Ugh,” she said as they stepped forward into the ballroom. “This may be a fairytale ball, but these clothes…yeah, more the stuff of nightmares.”

He looked down at her warmly, his eyes taking in the gentle sweetheart neckline, the long, tapered sleeves, the full skirt. His eyes held no little amount of awe and wonder.  “You may not be able to move Swan, but you cut quite the figure in that dress.”

She ducked her head, smiling gently. Six months of dating and a gallant compliment like that still had the power to make her blush with pleasure.

“You’re not looking so bad yourself, your majesty,” she said.

A small string ensemble kicked off a musical selection, and Killian stopped before Emma, bowed deeply and then held out his hand. “My love, would you do me the honor of granting me your first dance?”

She grinned, taking his hand and letting him lead her out to the dance floor where several couples were already taking their places. He took her hand with one of his, and wrapped the other around her waist, expertly setting them in motion.

“You know how to do…whatever this is?” she asked.

“You don’t star in a myriad of chick flicks without having the occasional dancing scene, Swan,” he said with a grin. “And for your information, it’s called a waltz.  There’s only one rule.  Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

And he did. He definitely did.  Emma reveled in the feel of his strong arms around her as they moved to the music.  It was certainly nothing new to her, after six months of his attentions, but dancing with him…it brought it home in a whole new way:  There was nowhere on earth she’d rather be than in Killian’s arms.

Eventually the music came to an end, and Emma wrapped her arms around Killian’s neck, bringing him down for a quick kiss.

He rubbed his nose against hers when it ended, smiling down at her. “What was that for, Swan? Not that I’m complaining, of course.”

She shrugged. “I’m just happy.  Do I need any more reason than that to kiss man I love?”

His face lit up like a Christmas tree at her declaration. It was only in the last month or so that she’d first felt comfortable enough to say those three little words, and he seemed to cherish them every time she said them.

“None that I can think of,” he said. “Allow me to escort you to the chairs set up along the walls.  I believe I see your brother and sister in law.  Then I’ll secure us some refreshments.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Mary Margaret sat in one of the comfortable chairs set up for their use, her hand resting on the swell of her belly. Emma’s little nephew was due to join them on the outside any day now—maybe even any minute from the looks of Mary Margaret.

“You and Killian looked like you were enjoying yourselves,” Mary Margaret said happily. “Things are really going well with you, aren’t they?”

Emma’s smile turned a bit dreamy. “Yeah.  Better than I ever could have imagined.”

“I’m glad, Emma,” David said, taking her hand and squeezing warmly. “Killian’s a good guy, a true friend.”

“That he is,” Emma agreed. “So, what’s up with you guys?  How’s the little one doing?”

“Kicking up a storm,” Mary Margaret said, caressing her belly slightly. “I think little Leo wants to join in the dancing.”

“Leo?” Emma asked.

“Yeah,” David said. “We finally settled on a name.  I was…hesitant to name our son Leopold; can you _imagine_ how much he’d get picked on for a name like that?  But Mary Margaret insisted on honoring her father.  So we compromised and went with Leo.”

“Leo,” Emma said, reaching out and resting her hand on her sister-in-law’s bump, chuckling when the little guy inside met her hand with a good, swift kick. “I like it!  Well, I can’t wait to meet you, Leo!”

They fell silent for a moment, and then David turned toward her. “So, Emma, have you heard the news?”

“Don’t think so,” she answered. “What news is that?”

“Seems _Taking Back Neverland_ has been getting rave reviews,” David answered.  “The studio’s asked Regina to make a sequel, and she’s already gone to work to find a screenwriter.  Word is, this could even become a franchise like Star Wars or something.  So you up for another Regina Mills film?”

“Wow!” Emma said, “of _course_ I’m up for another Regina Mills film.  This one has been great!  Best few months of my life.”

Killian returned with a couple of glasses of punch, and the two couples chatted idly for a few moments before Killian led Emma once more to the dance floor.

After an hour of dancing with her one true love, Emma felt like she’d reached the heights of perfect happiness, but there were still a couple more surprises in store for her that night. Surprises that turned her happiness into pure ecstasy.

Finishing another rousing set of dances, Killian led Emma off the floor, both of them breathing heavily from the exertion of the dance.

“Hey, Emma!” Henry called from the refreshment table. Emma smiled, and headed toward the kid who was growing like a weed (and who Regina joked was eating her and Robin out of house and home).

“Hey kid! Hows it going?” she asked, ruffling his hair.

“Okay, I guess,” he said, taking a bite of cookie. “Food’s good.”

“Well, lad,” Killian said, stepping up beside Emma and wrapping an arm around her waist, “how are you faring during your first royal ball? Find any lovely princesses to dance with?”

Henry shot Killian a disgusted look. “Ugh, no!  Girls are gross.”

Killian turned, brushing a kiss against Emma’s temple. “I can assure you, you won’t always feel so, lad.  There’s truly no lass that intrigues you here tonight?  What about that one over there?  Violet I believe?  Morgan, the lighting guy’s daughter?  She seems pretty.”

Henry rolled his eyes elaborately. “She is kind of pretty I guess, but I don’t want to dance and look all lovesick like you and Emma do!”

Emma laughed. “So other than avoiding gross girls, what have you been up to lately?  Seems like we haven’t had much chance to talk at all since filming came to an end.”

“Well, the most interesting thing was this project we did at school a few weeks ago,” Henry said, just as Regina and Robin walked up. “We were all supposed to make our family trees, but, you know, I was adopted, so it was pretty hard.”

Emma dropped her eyes, feeling a quick pain at the thought of the little one she gave up. “Did..” she finally said “did you ever figure it out?”

“Yeah!” Henry said, nodding enthusiastically. “Mom helped me do some digging, and do you know what I found out?”

“Nope. What did you find, kid?”

“I was born in _jail_!” he said as though it was the coolest thing ever.

Emma gasped. “Um…where were you born?  I mean what city?”

“Phoenix,” Henry said, utterly unaware of the emotions beginning to churn through Emma.  Killian, sensing her distress, pulled her a bit closer, lending his strength.  “Couldn’t find out much about what my birth mom _did_ to get her into jail, though.  She was still just a teenager, so they kind of hid her records or something.”

Emma shot Regina a quick look, noting an odd look in the director’s eyes. Henry’s birth mom was a teenager in jail when she gave birth?  In Phoenix?  And…then there were those times on set when he seemed so utterly _familiar_.  It could just be a coincidence, of course, but…?  She had to know for sure.”

“Um,” she said, her throat tight, “so just what’s your birthday, kid?”

“I was born on May 30, 2005,” Henry said.

Emma staggered back, probably would have fallen over if Killian wasn’t there to hold her up. Henry was born in jail in the same city and on the same day she herself gave birth to a little boy?  That…that was too much to be a coincidence.

“Swan?” Killian whispered to her. “What’s wrong love?  Are you ill?”

She shook her head, smiling tightly as Henry bid her goodbye and then ran off to talk to some friends. “No, I’m fine, it’s just…”

Emma turned toward Regina, who’s eyes were knowing, sympathetic. “Regina…is Henry my…?”

Regina stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She nodded slightly.  “I can’t know for sure, of course, without a DNA test; as Henry alluded to, his birth mother’s records are sealed as she was a minor, but yes.  The more I digging I did into Henry’s background to help him with his project, the more convinced I was that _you_ , indeed, are his birth mother.”

Emma felt the tears well in her eyes, and abruptly she turned around, burying her face in Killian’s neck, letting them flow. His arms immediately came around her, as he held her close, rocking her slightly, whispering soundless words of comfort.  Henry was her _son_?  Memories from that day, that day he was born flooded back into her.  All those days and years she thought about her little boy, wondered what had become of him, wondered if he was happy.  Actually finding him, meeting him, befriending him—it was a dream she’d never let herself hope could come true.  It was beautiful and terrifying and utterly and completely overwhelming.

After some amount of time—Emma had no idea if it was mere moments, or hours—she finally pulled herself together, accepted the handkerchief Killian offered, blotted at her streaming eyes (trying desperately not to smudge her carefully applied make up) and turned toward Regina.

“I…” she began, “Regina, I _know_ you’re his mom.  You’re the one who raised him but…but  is there any way…?  I mean, um, would you be okay if I had a part in his life too?  I…I’ve missed him every day of his life, wished things could have been different, wished I could be part of his life, wished I hadn’t been so screwed up when he was born, wished…”

Regina stopped her with a gentle, raised hand. “I know, Miss Swan…Emma,” she said, compassion evident in her voice, “and for the record, I’m incredibly grateful for the choice you made; without you I wouldn’t have my son.  And as for him being in your life, _of course_ , you’ll be a part of his life.  I haven’t told him yet; wanted a chance to discuss it with you first.  But I _will_ tell him the truth.  And when he finds out you’re his birth mom…do you really think that determined little boy would _ever_ let you out of his life again?”

Emma laughed. “I hope not.”

“For the record,” Regina continued. “He’s going to be over-the-moon thrilled when he finds out.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

An hour later, Killian led Emma toward a balcony off the main ballroom. The room had gotten warm with the press of people, and Emma had expressed a wish for some cool air.  Killian closed the large, floor-length balcony doors behind them, feeling his nerves begin to kick up.

It was now or never.

After the revelation that Henry was her son, Killian had toyed with the idea of putting off the proposal, fearing Emma had had enough moments of high emotion for one day, but stepping out on the balcony, the beauty of the garden below showing by the light of the full moon, the light breeze carrying the sweet scent of honeysuckle from the vines climbing the wall, Killian knew his perfect moment had come.

Emma stepped to the edge of the balcony, leaning against the chest-high wall, looking out at the beauty of the night. Gods she was beautiful.  He’d never before met a woman to match her.  And with each passing day, his love for her grew.

She turned to him, smiling sweetly, and he hurried to join her at the ledge. “Emma,” he said, taking her into his arms.  Slowly he lowered his head until he was able to capture her lips in a long, slow, achingly thorough kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, she reached up and cupped his cheek, letting her thumb caress the little scar below his eye. “Certainly not complaining, but what brought that on?”

“Swan, have you any idea how bloody gorgeous you are tonight?” he asked in a voice still unsteady from their kiss. “You’re always beautiful, of course, but with the blush of happiness on your cheeks tonight…love you take a man’s breath away.”

“I _am_ happy,” she said with a tender smile.  “Probably happier than I’ve ever been.  And now I’m finally reunited with my son?  It’s a dream come true.”

“I’m delighted for you,” he said, “and the lad is truly blessed to have you for a mother.”

She looked up at him for a moment, her eyes furrowing. “Thank you, but…is there something wrong?  You seem, I don’t know, nervous or something.”

He took a deep breath and stepped out of the circle of her arms. “Truth be told, Emma, there’s something I’ve been wishing to discuss with you.”

A wary look came into her eyes. “Okay…”

“We’ve been dating for six months now, and, Swan, they’ve been the best six months of my life…”

She abruptly took a step back, stopping him with a raised hand and aching pain in her eyes. “Don’t!  Don’t go on!  I get it okay?  It’s been a good run, but now things have come to an end.  I get it.”

For a moment, Killian’s brow furrowed, realizing Emma was upset but having no idea where things had gone wrong. And then suddenly he understood, and he rushed forward to reassure her.

“Swan?” he asked. “Did you think I was _breaking up_ with you?”

She crossed her arms as though hugging herself. “Well, aren’t you?”

He laughed, couldn’t help it. Of all the ridiculous notions!  “No!  That’s perhaps the farthest thing from my mind, Emma!  I love you to the very depth of my soul.  Every beat of my heart belongs to you.  Not a thing in the universe could induce me to leave you, my dearest love.”

He watched her eyes soften, the relief wash over her as she realized what he was telling her. Slowly, almost shyly, she smiled.  “I love you too.  A lot.”

He leaned forward and kissed her once again, couldn’t seem to help himself.

“I’m quite glad to hear that, because…” he said, his hands fidgeting. The moment of truth had arrived.  There was nothing left but to ask the question that would change both of their lives forever.

Killian reached into his pocket, withdrew the small box, knelt on one knee, and opened the box to reveal the delicate ring within.

“Emma Swan, will you do me the greatest honor of becoming my wife?”

She brought her hands to cover her mouth as tears filled her eyes. Then, suddenly, she knelt beside him without care for her lovely ball gown, threw her arms around him and kissed him like there was no tomorrow.

When she pulled back, she rested her forehead against his.   “What do you think?” she asked breathlessly.

“I think perhaps, we’ve just discovered our happy ending,” he answered.

She leaned forward and kissed him once more. “I think you’re right.”

Throughout the rest of the evening Killian doubted his feet even touched the ground. He’d no idea it was possible to be this happy, this fulfilled, this complete.  He may have had doubts about this film when Robin first proposed it, but taking the role of Captain Hook had proven to be the best decision of his life.

 

_Notes:_

_\--Well there you go! The exciting conclusion of “Taking Back Neverland”!  I’m sure this chapter’s “big reveal”—that Henry was actually the son Emma gave up ten years before—wasn’t a huge surprise to most of you.  (Btw, the birthday Henry told Emma was Jared Gilmore’s actual birthday—minus the year.  Jared was actually born in 2000, but in the interest of keeping my story’s Henry nearly 11, here in the “six months later” section, I moved that date up to almost 11 years before today.)_

_\--And then I couldn’t resist throwing in a CS engagement—and any opportunity I can find to keep Liam alive, I eagerly take!_

_\--Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoyed my take on the “actors who hate each other”  trope!_


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